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Brian was tired. They band was 2 weeks into a 6 week North American tour and all he wanted to do was have a shower and crawl into his bed between crisp, clean sheets for at least 8 hours shut eye. Bliss! He was just toweling himself off after a long hot shower when he heard a loud knocking on the outside of his patio door.

"What the hell?" he groaned as he saw Roger Taylor, their drummer gesturing to open the balcony door. The last time he had seen the blond was when they took their final bows at the concert hours earlier. The drummer had dashed from his kit, drumsticks held in one hands as he raised his arm and bowed, Brian's arm around his shoulder. The crowd had roared and then Roger was gone, probably off to join a bevy of groupies who were waiting for him. Brian hadn't given him a second thought till he saw him urgently trying to open the sliding door.

"Ok,ok!" Brian unlocked the door and pulled it open and was nearly pushed over by the blond drummer pushing past him and running over to the hotel room door to look through the peephole.

""Bri, I need your help," the drummer leaned back against the door, still wearing his outfit from the performance...tight white satin pants and a white fringed vest. His bare chest glistened with sweat and he was breathing deeply, catching his breath. "Bri, I need sanctuary," he said quietly looking very serious for the happy, go lucky drummer.

Brian couldn't help laughing as he sat on his bed. "Sanctuary from what exactly, Rog?" he shook his head, brown curls shaking as he did. "What are you scared of?" he laughed.

"Oh, you laugh, huh?" The drummer sighed and tried to dig his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket but dropped them and had to crouch down to pick up the white sticks from the floor. "There's fucking 10 of them out there," he gestured his head towards the door and the hallway. "Just look," he stood up and lit a cigarette. Brian would have stopped him if Freddie was coming back to the room they shared but he knew the singer would be out all night with his own pursuits. He strolled to the door, followed by Roger and slowly opened his hotel room door. 'He peered around the corner towards Roger's room and saw at least 6 or 7 young women, girls really, lounging outside the drummer's door waiting for his arrival.

"Yikes!" Brian shut the door quickly, surprised to find the blond so close to him he could feel his breath on his neck. "Ok, I'll give you sanctuary," he said mock seriously and was amused to see the drummer's look of relief. He thought it almost comical the way Roger clasped his hands together and raised his blue eyes to the ceiling as if thanking God for his deliverance.

"Thanks Bri, got anything to drink in this dive?" the blond was digging around the mini bar and already had opened a small bottle of scotch and was pouring it into a glass.

"Rog, maybe you should just have a shower and get to bed," the guitarist said sensibly and reached for his pyjama bottoms from his bed, turning from Roger as he pulled them on.

"Yes, mother," The drummer giggled and looking in the mirror fluffed up his blond locks to look even messier then before. He turned around with a cheeky grin, his head to one side. "Thanks, Bri. Really. I've had a fucking headache all day and I can't keep up the pace tonight. Must be getting old, I guess," he smirked.

"Yeah, right. Old at 24 Rog," Brian pulled back the covers of the king sized bed and turned to take drop the extra pillows on the far side of the bed.

"Freddie won't be back to morning, Rog. I'm sure he wouldn't mind you using his stuff for the night. Under the circumstances," he added grinning.

The blond drummer obediently had a quick shower. Brian could hear him brushing his teeth and he wondered whose toothbrush he was using exactly but remembered Freddie had extras in his shaving kit. Roger had come out of the bathroom, a towel around his slim waist, his damp hair in loose curls over his shoulders, his blue eyes sleepy. Brian tried not to look at him but was mesmerised by the lithe, pale body. He closed his eyes as Roger dropped the towel and crawled into the other bed naked. He listened to the blond discarding pillows. Then another soft padding to the bathroom for a glass of water. Back to the bed.

"Rog, settle down, huh?" Brian sighed. "We have an early morning flight, yeah?" He listened to his bandmate settle down finally and turn off the light by the bed.

Brian was just drifting off to sleep when he was awoken by Roger's soft voice. "Bri. Bri. Are you asleep?"

"Not now," Bri leaned on his elbow., peering at his roommate.

'Just wanted to say thanks for letting me stay," Roger whispered and closed his eyes, apparently asleep after this information imparted.

"You're welcome," the guitarist smiled. "Night, Rog," he lay down and was immediately asleep.


A couple of hours later Brian, a light sleeper, heard the toilet flush and then was surprised to realize Roger was not going back to his own bed but was crawling in next to him.

"Hey, Rog. Wrong bed," he said over his shoulder but the blond was snuggling up close to him, a slim arm sliding under his and he felt his neck being tickled by the blonds hair. Warm breath on his neck. He sighed. It wasn't unheard of the drummer doing this, usually with Freddie. If Roger was feeling vulnerable, for whatever reason, this was his comfort zone. Brian realized the best way to get a good nights sleep was just to close his eyes and go with it. God knows what anyone coming into the room to wake them tomorrow would think but he was too tired to care.

The alarm had gone off at 7 am and Brian had thrown an arm out to stop it. He opened his eyes slowly realizing he was pinned under the sleeping blond. Somehow, Brian was now on his back, his bandmate cradled in his arms, one naked leg over Brian's. He had to think for a few seconds what had happened last night. Remembering the drummers plea for sanctuary and then crawling into bed with him. The drummer's face was now against his neck, soft breathing through pink, pouty lips. Brian was holding one of the blonds hand's against his chest. What surprised him most was how unbelievably happy he felt.

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Roger had dashed naked from Brians's hotel room to the one he shared with John. His clothes from the night before in a bundle under his arm, he dropped them on the floor as soon as he opened the sliding glass door of their balcony. He immediately shouted "Deaky!?" as soon as he saw the empty bed and heard the shower running. The bathroom door was open and steam was billowing from the shower stall. The blonde tapped lightly on the glass shower door and smiled as his best friend slid it open.

"Hey, Rog," he was met with a sweet grin from his roommate. "What happened to you last night, anyway?" the bassist turned off the water and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist. Brunette hair hung damply over his slim shoulders and his skin glistened from the hot water. "You got a good nights sleep, I hope," he laughed looking at the naked drummer in front of him.

"They didn't devour you?" the blond jerked his head towards the doorway. "I expected to find your half eaten body on the floor," Roger said dramatically and shivered.

His friend laughed but stopped when he saw the serious look in the blonde's blue eyes. "Hey, Rog. I'm ok, " he touched his bandmates bare arm. 'Where did you end up last night, mate?" He asked softly.

The drummer looked down at the floor, embarrassed. "I slept in Brian's room, ok?" he looked grumpy for a moment but his friend recognized the signs and pulled the blond towards him, stroking back the blond hair over his friend's ears and rubbing his back in light circular motions.

"I'm glad you were safe, Rog," he said softly. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got back. I thought you might want your space after you left in the limo with ....." here he stopped, waiting for his friend to say something but was met with silence. They stood there for a few moments longer, the brunette's arms wrapped around the drummer's naked shoulders, the blonde's head against his neck, as if he was a child who had wakened from a bad dream. John wondered, not for the first time since knowing his friend, what went on in that talented head sometimes.

"Come on, Rog," he let him go and motioned to wear the suitcases were already packed and clothes and underwear layed out on the bed. 'I figured what you would want to wear," he added. '"Hope that's ok?" he didn't wait for an answer but was pleased to see the the drummer nodding and starting to get dressed. John thought he eventually would find out what happened last night. Probably in the middle of a scrabble game or before they turned out the lights before bed one day. He had learned long a go not to ask too many questions. Roger had helped him during some of the worst moments of his life and he was determined to be there for him, now.

The limo had dropped the band with their manager Jim Beach at the airport in time for the 3 hour flight to New York. Settled in first class, they were the only passengers there, they quickly paired up. Freddie and Brian together with John and Roger the row ahead. Freddie was looking wrecked and had donned a pair of red eye shades, settling in for a 3 hour nap. Brian's hope of having a quiet discussion with the singer about Roger's nocturnal visit were dashed. Brian stretched out his long legs and sipped the strong coffee the flight attendant had brought him. he could hear John and Roger chatting and then suddenly the blonde's head popped up over the seat in front of him.

"Hey , Bri! Wanna play scrabble, with us?" he gave the guitarist and impish grin and motioned with his head fro him to come over to the seat in front.

"Please, go," he heard Freddie plead and undid his seatbelt to join his bandmates. There were two seats facing their's with a low table between them where the scrabble board was set up. Brian hadn't seen the drummer since he had dashed out of his room, his concert outfit a bundle under his arm. Now the blond was wearing tight jeans and and a faded denim shirt, his blond hair falling in waves over his shoulders, deep blue eyes concentrating on the game.

John started the game, aware that Brian was looking curiously at his friend. He could feel the drummer's leg bouncing next to his and he put a calming hand on the other's knee to quieten him. Suddenly, the bassist said, turning to Roger, "Rog, could you ask Jim how much time we have after landing before getting to the auditorium?" He watched as the drummer got up without question, going in search of the manager. John leaned forward and asked Brian what had happened the night before. 'Quick, before he get's back," he looked over his shoulder but the drummer was yards away, talking to their manager.

Brian looked surprised but said. 'He asked for sanctuary from for a bunch of groupies, outside his room," Brian shrugged. "It just seemed so unlike him," he frowned. "Is he ok?" he asked.

"Did he sleep on his own?" John asked softly, ignoring the question but could tell by Brian's face what the answer was.

"Three hours, " The drummer plonked himself down in his seat and sighed. 'I've got a really bad headache, Deaky," he almost whined and putting his head back, closed his eyes.

"Ok, Rog. I've got some aspirin here," the bassist reached into his pocket and brought out a small bottle of aspirin an shook out 2 tablets, putting them in the blonde's hand and handing him a glass of water. Brian watched, feeling for the first time that he really hadn't honestly looked at Roger for a long time as anything but a talented bandmate. Had never seen him as the beautiful looking human being he was. It both shocked and scared him. The dynamic between the drummer and bassist was unique and he realized, very loving. How long had this been going on that he never noticed all the little intrigues going on around him?

Roger had swallowed the medication and closed his eyes, leaning his head back. Long, dark lashes fluttered for a second and his head fell slightly sideways as if seeking his friend's shoulder. Brian realized by John's look that if he wasn't there that's exactly what would happen. Meanwhile they had 4 more weeks of the tour before returning to London and the flat they all shared.

Chapter Text

It was the last week of the tour and ever since the night Roger had come into his room begging for help Brian hadn't been able to get the blond drummer out of his head. True, he had known him Roger for nearly 6 years, ever since they had formed their first band, Smile. He had seen, he thought, all the varied sides of his friend. His erratic moods, his affection, his talent. The way almost everyone seemed attracted to him, male and female. After concerts, he always had a couple of girls on each arm. Didn't come back to their hotel rooms till the small hours. Tonight was no different.

Freddie and John were sitting at a large table with various members of the road team, managers and a couple of young women. The drinks were flowing freely and Deaky and Fred looked like thy were enjoying themselves. Roger was near the bar area, a blond on one arm and a redhead on the other. He seemed to manage to give attention to both equally and was downing glasses of champagne at an alarming rate but still remained steady on his feet. Brian was half listening to Jim about a problem with a roadie because he was trying to recall something John had told him why he hadn't asked him for an explanation but just taken the remark at face value.

It had been one morning 4 months ago when someone had phoned for Freddie while Brian was sipping his coffee and reading the paper. Brian had knocked on Freddie's bedroom door before slowly opening it, never sure who he would find in bed with him but was not expecting to see Roger snuggled up the singer, his blond hair splayed out on the pillow beside the other. Freddie didn't seem phased by Brian seeing his bed partner and the guitarist tried to erase the sight from his brain, thinking it was none of his business who his flatmates slept with. But Roger? Seemed so unlikely knowing what a ladies man he was.

Even though he knew it was none of his business he had asked John one day when they were alone in the flat about it and the bassist had just shrugged and said Roger only slept with Freddie if his roommate wasn't there and he was feeling vulnerable. John and Roger had shared a bedroom for years and it made sense John would know a lot more about the drummer then he did. Brian had known it was unreasonable but he had felt a little put out that Roger didn't choose him to sleep with. He gave his head a shake at the thought, laughing at himself. It wasn't till that night on the tour when no one was around that the drummer he had sought Brian out.

Brian finished his beer and tore his eyes away from Roger. Roger who made his heart stop sometimes when he watched him drumming, his head thrown back, his eyes half closed and his lips slightly apart. The guitarist almost forgot he was playing when he watched him. It was if everything around them had disappeared. The blond drummer would flip his hair around and stop still, staring back at Brian with a knowing smirk and the guitarist would turn away, feeling his face going red. Once, Brian had seen John watching him and looking back at the drummer before turning around to tune his guitar, a guarded look in his grey eyes.

Someone touched Brian on the arm he turned to see John offering him a beer. "Getting ready to leave," he laughed and they both looked over at Roger who looked as if he had no intention of leaving. The club was in the same hotel they were staying at so there was no problem fining their driver. Brian asked John if he could have a quiet word with him and motioned to the deserted balcony near them. John nodded but with a strange look on his face as if he was dreading something.

They both settled themselves on lounge chairs with their beers before Brian started to speak. "It's about Roger," he started and saw the look in John's eyes go cold.
"What?" the brunette asked and sighed leaning forward and folding his arms as if in pain.
Brian plunged forward. "You said once that Roger felt vulnerable but I never really understood what you meant and after that night a couple of weeks ago, I..." he watched the bassist leaning back close his eyes letting out a long breath.

"I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone," he said softly but his eyes were sad and Brian felt as if something was going to be said that he might regret hearing.

"Don't Deaks. Not if you promised Roger something. It's ok," Brian leaned forward and touched the other's arm. "It's really none of my business. I was just concerned about him. He's not been the same for a few months and I can't put my finger on what the change is," he spread out his hands. "You seem very protective of him,"

"I will tell you, Bri. But you can never, ever tell Roger I did. I've never broken a promise to him but I think, just in case I'm not around and something happens," he was almost stuttering as he fought off sounding too emotional. He leaned forward, his hands clasped together between his legs. There were tears starting in his eyes and Brian prepared himself to hear about what had happened 6 months before.

"Remember that week when Rog and I went to stay at my Mom's?" John didn't look at Brian but kept his eyes fixed on his own hands. "You probably don't remember but you and Rog had had one of your usual arguments about a single note in a song and he had gone storming off. Usually, he came back after a hour or so but I decided to follow him. He seemed overly upset and that's not good. Usually means he's going to drink himself senseless and I'm the one who has to clean up the mess, literally and figuratively," he smiled
slightly and Brian nodded encouragingly. "Anyway, I managed to catch up to him. I saw him turning into a pub far from the studio but it was a horrible place. I waited a few minutes and had a smoke...I wish I had just followed him in and got him out of there. I guess he wasn't even aware of his surroundings. Anyway, I went in. it was the worse place for someone that looks like he does to go Bri. I couldn't see him so figured he had gone to the men's room. I tried the door, but someone or something was blocking it. I had this horrible feeling," John's voice was shaking and fought back tears telling the story. Brian held his breath, knowing now what was probably coming. He moved his chair closer to John's and put an arm around his shoulders.

John took a large gulp of his beer and continued. "I could hear sounds that sounded like someone choking and I tried to kick down the door...," John's breath hitched as he tried to speak calmly "Someone pulled me back and shouted at me and I was just about to punch whoever it was when I realized it was a police constable and I told him my friend was in there and something bad was happening and we managed to kick the door down," John put his face in his hands remembering what had happened. He pushed the words out angrily. " was horrifying. There 5 of them and two of them were holding Rog against the wall and had a hand over his mouth." Tears streaming down his face, John looked at Brian. "They were going to rape him, Bri." he choked out the words. 'Five of them. They were going to...he would been dead, Bri. He would've...," he covered his face with his hands as if trying to block out the sight he saw. "It was my fault," he lowered his head and Brian felt heartsick for him. "If I had been a few minutes early he wouldn't had to through that,"

Brian rubbed his friends back. "No, Deaks, you can't blame yourself. You saved him," he wanted to cry himself after listening to the story. His heart was breaking for both of them.
"Did they...?" he asked quietly. "Did they hurt him?' Brian asked quietly and John shook his head.

"I took him back to the flat and got him in the shower. We just stood in there it seemed forever and I scrubbed every inch of him. He was shaking so much and sobbing against me and I couldn't let him go for a second. I don't know which one of was more frightened. Anyway, we left for my Mom's before you and Freddie were up. Rog didn't want you to see him. I promised him Bri," he looked now at his friend and allowed himself to be hugged. "I told Mom what had happened and she was great. She went to stay with her sister for the week so we could be alone. Bri, Roger actually tried to make me feel better. Can you believe it?" he sighed. "Anyway, we went for long walks together and at night I just held on to him till my arms ached. It wasn't so bad in the daytime but at night he couldn't stop shaking. By the time we got back a week later he had gotten over the worst of it...but he... we..can't help thinking what was going to happen. That's why, sometimes...he needs our company." John pressed his lips together and looked sideways at Brian. He didn't want you are Freddie to know because he thought it was his own fault for acting like a brat and walking out in a sulk,"

"God, Deaks. I can't imagine what you went through," Brian said softly. He was trying to process what he had heard. It made him angry to think something could have seriously happened to Roger and what an awful emptiness there would have been if he was gone or even worse, too destroyed to function.

John was speaking so quietly Brian had to strain to hear him. "That's when I realized I loved him," he whispered as if to himself. "We were always best friends, but I knew at that moment I was in love with him and could never tell him,"

"Why couldn't you tell him?" Brian was confused.

"It would be too much for him to process. It took him weeks to be emotionally stable. He managed in front of you but not at night. I didn't want him to feel he had to deal with any other emotions and then it was almost too late to say something."

"You need to tell him, Deaks. He probably feels the same about you. It sounds like he does," Brian sighed.

They went back into the noisy lounge area in time to see Roger dressed in tight leather pants and a white button down shirt leaving with the 2 girls, all three giggling as they pressed the button for the elevator. Brian and John shook their heads and shrugged at eachother. It was a light moment after the evenings revelations.

They parted on their hotel floor, and Brian found he had an immense respect for his fellow band member. "Good old Deakie," he said to himself and shivered thinking what would have happened if he hadn't rescued Roger.


It was nearly 3 am before Roger got back to their room. John sat up, rubbing his eyes when the door opened and Roger trying to be quiet managed not to be when he bumped into a desk chair and said "Ouch," and cursed at the offending piece of furniture.

John laughed. "It's ok Rog, I'm awake. Which girl did you end up with?" and laughed when with a toss of his head the blond had said 'both'.

The drummer said he would just have a quick shower and disappeared into the bathroom. He emerged a few minutes later, naked and towel drying his wet hair.
"Can I sleep with you, Deaks?" he asked so politely his friend new he was probably a little drunk.

"You never have to ask, Rog," John lifted the duvet up and a damp blond climbed into bed next to him. The drummer leaned on his elbow and frowned comically at his friend. "How can a bad ass drummer get a hug in this place?".

John grinned at him and pulled him towards him, tucking the blond head under his chin, they both sighed contentedly as the bare leg crossed over his comfortingly.

"I love you Deaks," the blond whispered and kissed John's neck. John felt his skin go warm and his heart beat a little faster. He held the drummers hand against his heart and stroked back the damp hair behind his ear.

"I love you, too," he whispered back and felt a warm, soft lips on his for a gentle kiss.

"Night, Deaky," Roger lays his head back down onto the other's shoulder and was immediately asleep.

John lay awake for a few minutes, determined to tell Roger in the morning how much he loved him.

It was nearly dawn when Roger woke and unable to stop shaking. He was afraid he would wake his friend and bit down on his lower lip till he tasted blood. He felt John's hand squeeze his and arms tighten around him. He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling safe again.

Chapter Text

John had already showered and brushed his teeth before Roger had woken. He had managed to slide back into bed without disturbing the sleeping blond and for a few minutes he half held his breath watching the sleeping form next to him. Blond hair in messy tendrils covered Roger's face and shoulders, dark lashes against his cheeks. John felt his breath catch watching him sleep as if had seen him for the first time. Not as the mouthy, sometimes bratty drummer who flew off the handle with amazing regularity but as a renaissance angel in a painting. He looked so peaceful it startled John when the blue eyes opened and looked at him softly, a slow smile appearing under sleepy eyes. John leaned over to kiss him softly on the lips.

"Gotta pee," Roger grinned at him and jumped out of bed suddenly racing to the bathroom. John fell back against the pillow, a grin on his face. He heard the toilet flush, water running, the sound of teeth being brushed and the blond leaped back into bed with a freshly washed face and hovered over the brunette before leaning in for a deep, searching kiss.

John reached up and held the blonds face in his hands, closing his eyes, he let himself float into the moment. This was actually happening, he thought to himself. He leaned up and pushed the blond over gently, nuzzling his neck and kissing behind his ears, making the other shudder in pleasure. Roger's skin was soft and warm and John gently pulled his hair as he kissed him, making the other moan. Rogers fingers stroked John's shoulders lightly and his back arched as their hips pressed together, their erections pressed between them, throbbing. For a moment the John didn't realize that his now lover was saying something till he heard a frantic call of his name and opened his eyes to meet Roger's deep blue eyes, half closed. His lips were almost swollen from kissing and sweat had broken out on his forehead making his blond locks stick to his face. John thought he had never seen anything more desirable. He hovered inches about Roger's face, his own brunette hair falling onto the blonds chest.

"What is it Rog? Are you ok?" he asked softly, concern in his grey eyes. He touched the side of his face lightly. The blonds breathing was coming in short bursts and John was getting worried. "Rog, please. What's wrong? Do you want to stop? Are we going too fast?" he asked softly, falling back to Roger's side, he stroked his hair back gently. Roger turned his face to him, a slow smile developing. "I'm scared, Deaky," he whispered and closed his eyes, his skin glowed pink in the morning light and he was biting his lower lip which John knew was a sign he was worried about something.

"I don't think I'm ready for...doing it. Not yet," he pushed his face into John's neck and slid his arm around his waist, pulling himself in closer to the other's chest.

John sighed, hugging him closer. "Oh, Rog. That's ok," he kissed his forehead and looked into his eyes. "We don't have to do anything that you don't want to do, baby," Roger smiled looking into the gentle grey eyes and traced his jawline with his finger. He moved his hand down to John's side and over his hips as if mapping out the other's body. For a moment he was confused with what Roger was saying as opposed to his actions then realized what he was trying to tell him. He had connecting the attempted rape with having sex and didn't want to feel like that about it.

"Rog?" John whispered in his ear. "I understand. We don't ever have to do that. Only what you want to do, baby," he felt the blond relax against him and soft lips against his own.

"Is it ok to touch you?" he asked gently and his lover nodded, smiling as John stroked his cock, running his thumb gently over his slit, feeling the heat rise in his own stomach as Roger did the same with such a light touch that John felt his eyes roll back in pleasure. Their hips grinding together they both climaxed at the same time, saying eachothers names as they stroked eachother, till Roger's eyes closed and he fell asleep immediately, cradled in his lover's arms.

John had heard from Roger's various girlfriend's that Roger would always fall asleep immediately for nearly 5 minutes. They found it endearing. John found it sweet and it gave him a chance to clean up and rinse out a warm wash cloth to tidy up the blond before he woke up.

"Deaky?" Roger's voice sounded almost panicky as he lifted his head from the pillow.

"I'm here," John touched his arm and pulled him in a tight embrace, stroking the damp blond hair from Roger's face and kissing his cheek gently.

Roger was talking softly, almost into John's neck. "I was so scared that night, Deaks," his body trembled. "I kept wishing you would be there and you were and I felt...," he half sobbed.."so embarrassed for you to see my like that," John ssshhhd him and pulled the covers over his shoulders to cacoon him.

"I peed myself, I was so scared," Roger was sobbing into his neck and John felt the hot tears run down his chest. He was crying himself as he held his beautiful lover and rocked him gently, waiting for him to say everything he had to but wasn't expecting what he heard next. "it was my fault, Deaky...for being such a jerk and slamming out of the studio," he said this in between sobs and John felt his heart break for him.

"it wasn't your fault, sweetheart," he said firmly. "It was not your fault what happened. They were bad people, Rog. It was just a fluke it was you. A horrible fluke," he finished feeling his explanation was inadequate but Roger looked up at him, his dark eyelashes wet with tears.

"You really think so, really?" his face was distraught and he was seeking reassurance from the person he trusted most in the world, his breath hitched as he looked into John's kind, grey eyes and he seemed to accept the simple nod and closed his eyes. John felt him relax again and give a long sigh

They both fell asleep, completely at peace for the time being. John knew he had never loved anyone so much as he did Roger. Would give up anything to be with him. He couldn't imagine the anguish he had gone through those moments before he had found him in the pub. Roger hadn't talked about it, no matter how John had coaxed him to get it out.

I'll always be faithful to you, Deaky," Roger was whispering into his ear. It was as if he was trying to comfort him. "I promise," blue eyes looked trustingly into his and John thought his heart would break in two.

I love you, too, Rog. Always," he whispered back and they pressed their foreheads together.

"I want to go home, Deaks," the blond whispered.

Tomorrow, baby. Tomorrow,"

Chapter Text

Freddie and Brian were already packed as the band would leave for the flight home to London after the concert tonight. Both were looking forward to going home to their own beds and familiar surroundings. It had been a great tour but they were all tired. Brian waited in the room while Freddie went through the connecting door to John and Roger's room. He had knocked lightly on the door, surprised not to get and answer and opened the door quietly.

"Hey, guys," Freddie called quietly but still no answer. He turned the corner and was surprised to see the two bandmembers, asleep in each others arms, a sheet covering their naked torsos, bare legs wrapped around eachother. He coughed gently to get Deaky's attention and saw the brunette lift his head sleepily.

"Hi Deak's. Meet me and Bri in the dining room in 30 min, ok?" he said softly, and John nodded his head in confirmation, looking down at the sleeping blond who stirred in his arms. Freddie gave him a sweet smile and nodded.

"Hey, sweetheart," John kissed the blond's lips to wake him but was rewarded with a sweet smile and the drummer snuggling in closer to him, with a sigh. John laughed and tried to get up.

"Were they up?" Brian asked the singer as they entered the elevator.

Freddie shook his head. "Still asleep," he smiled to himself and punched the button for the lobby floor. "I gave them 30 minutes," he added

"Oh, good, cause Freddie I need to tell you something before they come down," Brian looked uncomfortable.

"If it's that they're shagging eachother, I kind of figured that out this morning, Bri," Freddie grinned and whistled to himself.

"They are?" Brian looked surprised and Freddie shrugged.

Sitting in a quiet corner of the dining room, away from other diners, Brian was able to talk to Freddie. He found it difficult to start the conversation till he'd drank half of his coffee. Freddie listened intently as Brian repeated the story John had told him about the night Roger had been attacked. Brian watched the color drain from the singer's face as he listened and his eyes fill with tears, till the point he had to blow his nose.

"My God," the singer whispered, staring at him. "Our, poor Rog," he felt himself the despair that their drummer must have felt. Of dear Deaky rescuing him. No wonder they had bonded together. "What can we do?" he asked Brian who shook his head.

"Maybe, try not wind him up so much. We do tend to push his buttons, Fred, you know it and I know it," the guitarist frowned.

Freddie's hands were shaking as he finished his coffee. All he could think of was their beautiful Roger, who he had known since he was 19, having such a horrible experience.

"We could have lost him, Bri," his voice sounded strained and he closed his eyes trying to block out what the scene must have looked like to John.


"Come on, Rog," John gently shook the blonds shoulders but just got a sleepy smile in reply. He finally pulled the sheet off the sleeping drummer which he regretted as it just made him long to get back into bed with him. He allowed himself to nuzzle Roger's neck and lightly bite his ear. This had the added bonus of the other waking up but with a whine about wanting to sleep longer. John realized he had to be firm about this and pulled the drummer up by the shoulders. He was rewarded with a withering look and then a sweet smile as the blond realized who it was waking him.

"Come on, Rog, we have to go down for breakfast. We're going home, tonight, remember," he started throwing various clothes at the drummer. "Pick something to wear, baby. I'm starving," he grinned as Roger picked up various shirts, putting his head to one side, deciding what to wear. Fashion trumped sleep, apparently.

"You never called me baby, before," The blond talked at a white shirt , a smirk on his face.

"Well, things change, don't they?" John smirked back and tousled the blonds tangled locks.

John finished packing his and Roger's shaving kits and turned and looked up to see Roger's reflection in the mirror as he stood behind him in the doorway. They stared silently at eachother for a few moments before John turned and took the few steps to the blond, pulling him into an urgent kiss, that left them both breathless.

"We should have done this a long time ago," Roger whispered into John's hair, half closing his eyes, his breath catching as the brunette ran his hands lightly over his hips and then stood back to look at him.

"You look great, Rog," he smiled. The drummer wore his signature tight jeans and a buttoned down white shirt. He looked fresh, and simply hot.

"So do you," the blond lay his head on John's shoulder, looking up at him with dark blue eyes, half closed. It made the other's chest tighten and his heart beat faster.

"I love you Deaky," Roger's voice was raspy and John held him closer for a few seconds, breathing in the smell of his hair and skin.

They finally joined Brian and Freddie in the restaurant. Both were on their second plate of breakfast and had their mouths full, chewing, when the John and Roger arrived. Roger had donned his amber sunglasses and looked every inch the rock star he wanted to be. He was gathering appreciative glances from the younger female diners which he appeared to ignore. John tried not to smirk and Freddie and Brian raised their eyes. Good ol' Rog. Always kept everyone amused, they thought before they remembered what an awful experience he had a few months ago. Their sardonic expressions turned to fondness for him but it made him suspicious till John urged him to come with him to the buffet to get breakfast.

"What's up with those two?" Roger nodded his head towards the other bandmates.

"Don't know," John shrugged but could guess. Brian had probably told Freddie about Roger. It had to be done. He should have told them before but he hated breaking a promise, especially to Roger. He watched amused, as the thin drummer pile his plate with bacon and eggs and toast. Proper English breakfast anywhere.

The server poured their coffee as they sat down and she lingered over Roger just a bit longer then was necessary till he bestowed one of his smiles on her and she blushed as she moved away to attend the others.

"Geez, Rog. How do you do that?" Freddie almost giggled and the blond tossed his head and grinned. "Practice. Lots of practice," and he nudged John who laughed at the joke and Brian and Freddie exchanged 'whatever' glances. **************

The last concert of the tour had finished. Freddie and John had run up to the top of the stage, the two guitarists held their guitars up high, Freddie on his own, bowed. Roger had not yet reached the edge of the stage. Brian, smiling looked behind him and saw no drummer dashing up to him, drumsticks held high. What he did see was a semi circle of roadies, just visible behind the drum riser at the back. The audience had started to notice and cheers turned into demands for 'Roger, Roger, Roger!"

Freddie, in striped leotard had turned and almost leaped to the back of the stage. The lights in the auditorium had come on and fans were dispersing. Brian and John handed their guitars to the waiting roadies and followed the singer. The 3 roadies at the back separated their protective circle around the drummer who was slumped on the steps, his legs pulled up, his head resting on his arms. Freddie crouched in front of him and touched the drummer's arm. 'Rog, what's up. Aren't you feeling well?" he asked gently over the din from the hall.

Roger lifted his head, "I want to go home, Freddie," his voice was very raspy, not surprising as he had been singing as well as drumming for over 2 hours. But their was something desperate in his voice that the singer couldn't ignore.

"We're going home tonight, Rog, I promise," he squeezed his arm and leaned over to kiss the top of the drummer's head. One of the roadies made a scoffing noise and was immediately scowled at by Greg, the head roadie and self proclaimed protector of the band, especially Roger.

Freddie ignored the incident and stood up. "Rog, Deaky and Brian will help you to change, yeah, and we'll head to the airport, ok,?" he sounded so in charge that Roger just nodded as did the other two and helped Roger to get up. He seemed so fragile after the amazing performance he had blown them away with.

John and Brian walked on either side of Roger, both with and arm around him to the band room where they could shower and change before leaving for the airport. Roger had been quiet and obedient about getting a shower and changing. The roadie who has scoffed had offered his clean "Queen" roadie grey hoodie which was perfect as the drummer had started to shiver even thought the room was warm. He hadn't spoken other then a few words when John or Brian spoke to him. John felt his heart breaking for him and couldn't wait for them all to board the plane on the way home to spend some quiet time with him.

Roger had complained of another headache and John had given him a couple of pain killers, hoping it would help. There was no obvious explanation for this apparent breakdown but he hoped on the flight home he would find out. Meanwhile, they were ushered out to the waiting limo, Roger wearing his prescription sunglasses and the hoodie, making him look very rock starry as he would have said himself. They were at the airport in 30 minutes, and the drummer had slumped back against the seat between Brian and John with Freddie opposite them, sipping on a glass of champagne. Normally, they would all be drinking and celebrating the concert and the end of the tour but their drummers condition made them more sombre.

Roger and John settled into the first class seats, with Freddie and Brian behind them. John had pushed the middle armrest up after take off so that Roger could curl up on the seat and put his head on his shoulder. He had pulled his hands into the arms of the hoodie and wrapped both arms around John's arm. The 7 hour flight to London had hit turbulence but the drummer had slept through it which John was glad of. He could hear Greg talking quietly to Freddie and Brian just behind him but couldn't make out the words over the hum of the engines.

'So, what's up, Greg?" Freddie smiled up at their chief roadie. The rather gruff looking man crouched by their seats, rubbing his beard and choosing his words carefully. "First of all, Ronnie," he jerked his thumb behind him," wants to apologize for make a remark about Blondie..., his words, not mine," he grinned. 'Feels pretty bad about it and wants to have a quick word?" he shrugged waiting for the go ahead from his bosses. Brian and Freddie looked at eachother and nodded ok.

Ronnie, appeared a few seconds later, taking Greg's place in front of them. "I wanted to say sorry about earlier. I'm more used to doing work with country western bands, not more touchy feely...uh, sorry, can't help digging myself in the shit, can I?' he shrugged and the 2 bandmates couldn't help but laugh.

'Just wanted to say, I kinda recognize what blon..., I mean Roger is going through. My brother was the same coming back from Vietnam, you know, flashbacks and such.. anyway just wanna say if you need any help, he seems like a nice guy and guys that look like him, well, they get hassled. If you need a body or guard or such...," here he sighed, shrugged and stood up. Freddie nodded and thanked him seriously, then turned and looked at Brian.

"Flashbacks?" they both sighed and were silent for a few moments before Brian said 'PTSD, right?" they kept their voices low enough not to reach the seats in front of them.

Roger had woken after a few hours sleep and looked up at John, whose eyes were closed. "Deaky?" he whispered into his ear and the brunette opened his eyes smiling and stretched his free arm. He was sure he lost all feeling in the am Roger held on to. "I'm sorry Deaks," the blond said softly.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Rog," he touched his face and pushing back his hair behind his ears and gave him a gentle kiss. 'You were fantastic tonight Rog. I've never heard you play better," he said sincerely. He ran his fingers through Roger's hair as he leaned over to kiss him again.

"Deaks, when we get back," he smiled up at him and snuggled up closer to his lover. John stretches his arm out and put it around the blonds shoulders and sighed.

'When we get back," he answered and smiled

Chapter Text

The plane would be landing at Heathrow in one hour. Brian had taken over from John and was sitting with Roger while Freddie and John sat behind them. They had just been served breakfast and Deaky found himself very hungry and gratefully ate the whole array of first class goodies. Roger hadn't eaten since they had boarded but had slept through 2 bouts of turbulence and the 2 meal services.

Freddy was trying to tell John about the conversation with the roadie and John listened, nodding, not contributing anything to the conversation. He felt drained all of a sudden and just wanted to get home and go to sleep, preferably with the band's drummer next to him. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and then unbuckled his seat belt and stood up. "Sorry, Fred, I want to see how Rog is doing," he tapped Brian on the shoulder. The taller man got up and relinquished the drummer's arm. Roger frowned in his sleep and opened his eyes, looking towards the small window and away again as if the light hurt his eyes.

'Deaky?" he snuggled back up against his friend but didn't go back to sleep. "Can I have a smoke?" he asked.

Maybe, wait till we land Rog," John offered him the rest of his coffee that he had carried over. "Did you have a good sleep?" The blond nodded and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. His hair was choppy and tangled and John longed to spend an hour just untangling it but kept his hands down.

"What do you want to do when we get back?" John asked softly, looking at the drummer sideways. and smiling.

The blond leaned into him and whispered "Have shower, a smoke, a drink and snog with my new boyfriend all night," he smirked the Roger Taylor smile and John pressed his lips together so as not to grin his pleasure at the idea. "Is that ok if we just snog...a lot," the blond whispered in his ear and the other nodded and kissed him quickly of the forehead.

"I've never done anything more then what we did yesterday, before either," he assured him and the blond nodded and tried to sit up but it seemed too much effort and leaned back against John again and sighed.

"Well, I bet you thought a lot about it," Roger teased him. "See, I'm the romantic," he pointed to himself and you're not," he smirked.

John nudged him. "And you're a bad ass, Taylor,"

Freddie nudged Brian and nodded his head towards the seats in front of them, and shook his head smiling. Brian shrugged and 'Oh, well," and closed his eyes for the final descent into Heathrow.

They had finally arrived back at the flat. Since selling their first 2 albums the band had moved to a more spacious 3 bedroom flat in Kensington with all mod cons plus 2 bathrooms. Roger and John still shared a room with a bathroom en suite which was handy, especially as their relationship was changing.

The band had collapsed on two couches with cans of cold lager. Jim had ordered sandwiches and fresh fruit platters for them and they shared the late lunch with Gregg and Ronnie the 2 roadies who were invited to join them while they discussed how the tour had gone and what they would change. As they chatted Jim sorted through the pile of mile on the coffee table and put neat piles out for each bandmember. Brian noticed him look at a couple of the envelopes strangley and slip them into his inside jacket pocket. The guitarist would ask him about that later as it looked very odd.

Roger, was quiet, curled up on the couch with an ashtray on his lap and a beer and cigarette in one hand. He still felt cold, and was still wearing the roadie hoodie. He really wanted to get a shower and go to bed but was polite and just listened to the chatter as to contribute would need too much energy. He was aware Brian was looking at him with concern, probably because he was usually pretty mouthy about how a tour had gone and stacked up a few complaints. He wondered where Deaky was and suddenly just wanted to be alone with him, It was an overwhelming feeling that showed on his face because Freddie asked him if he was ok? He nodded and got up to get another beer and look for his friend.

John had gone ahead and put both their suitcases in the bedroom, noting that the drummer's case seemed heavier then his but then he had done a lot more shopping then he had. Roger lay on his bed, his arm behind his head, smoking and drinking his can of beer as he followed John's movements. It made the blond tired to watch him. As he lay there, he looked around the newly decorated bedroom. So different, from the old flat. It was spacious, and had new carpeting and drapes and looked out into a small park and not a street. They still had twin beds on either side of the room, though they were slightly larger then their old student beds.

John was aware of Roger watching him, as he unpacked his suitcase and put things in the chest of drawers. Laundry was thrown into the empty basket. "Why don't you go ahead and have a shower, Rog," John through a towel at him from the linen cupboard in the bedroom and the drummer caught it in his free hand. He sat up and yawned and started pulling off his clothes till he was naked and giving John a smirk and tossing his head he disappeared into the bathroom, not before stopping to look in a mirror and dig his fingers through his blond locks. The bassist knew he would be going to bed with a damp haired drummer, for sure.

John heard the shower start a few moments later and he undressed himself, not before locking their bedroom door. He could still hear Freddie rambling on about the state of the hotels they had been staying at. Nothing much changed there and he laughed to himself before going naked into the bathroom with his towel.

The shower stall was big enough for 2 had and also had a small ledge at knee height for soap and shampoo. The steam was making the room foggy and he flicked on the fan before sliding open the glass door. Roger had already put shampoo on his hair but for some reason, rather then rinsing it off, he was standing just away from the stream of warm water, his head leaning on the pale tile of the shower wall. John put a hand gently of his shoulder and pulled him under the water. No words had been spoken as Roger allowed the brunette to rinse the soap out of his hair. John has stood behind him, and with gentle fingers squeezed the water out of the blond's hair and applied the detangler product he used before rinsing that also. The drummer had placidly stood there, his eyes half closed, either from tiredness or pleasure at having his hair washed. John suddenly felt an amazing feeling of contentment doing this small service for his friend. Still no sound but the shower till Roger turned around slowly and with blue eyes looking into his, he wrapped his arms tightly around the other's waist, laying his head on his shoulder. John held him just as tightly before Roger lifted his face to him and John lay a chaste kiss on his lips.

The bedroom had turned cold suddenly as a heavy rain had started and the curtains were billowing out over the beds before John closed the window, leaving a few inches open for fresh air. Roger shivered as he dried himself and his hair with a towel before putting on a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. John did the same and he noticed the time on his watch was only 7 pm. The blond was already in bed, his damp hair falling in soft waves over his face and shoulders, his dark lashes against his pale skin. John lay his head beside him, watching him sleep. He pulled the covers up over them and pulled Roger towards him, holding one of his hands in his against his heart.

Chapter Text

Jim Beach had called an impromptu band meeting shortly after the two younger members had gone to bed. Jim had asked Freddie to make sure they were asleep and the singer confirmed the lights were out and no signs of talking. The two roadies, Greg and Ronnie had been asked to stay behind as the meeting would concern them and their help. They had chosen the kitchen as it had a door and large dining table that they could all sit around comfortably.

Jim produced the 2 envelopes he had put in his jacket pocket, and nodded at Brian who he knew had witnessed him pocketing them. "We have a problem, guys," Jim looked around the table at 4 serious faces. The two envelopes sat in the middle of the table. They could see by the writing that the letters were badly formed and illiterate. Perhaps, made to look illiterate?

"I won't mince words, " Jim looked at them seriously. "Roger has been sent 4 letters so far threatening his life, and other things"

Brian and Freddie looked at eachother, and as one leaned back in their chairs. Greg and Ronnie leaned forward, their faces like granite in response.

"What the fuck," Greg responded. Pulling the envelopes towards him. "Not on my watch," he growled. "Poor bastard. That's all he needs," and Ronnie nodded.

'What's up with this shit?" Ronnie slammed the table with his fist. "He needs protection. I'm in," he announced and the other 4 couldn't help but smile at him. Brian patted his shoulder.

"Thanks, Ronnie," Brian looked at Jim. 'What is this person threatening?" He asked this with trepidation knowing already what had happened to their drummer 6 months ago.

Jim sighed. They could tell this was difficult for him. Queen was like his family now and he loved them all. He had always felt the drummer had been particularly vulnerable to attacks by harmless fans and nut cases.

"Its sexual in nature," he put his hands flat on the table and looked at them all seriously. "I've alerted the authorities. I have connections with the CID and they are trying to trace.."

"Trying!" Brian stood up, his face white ."Find the fucking bastards! Freddie?" he turned to the singer who was staring at the envelopes in front of him.

"We can't tell Roger. Not after..." he looked at Brian.

"Ok, you guys better let me know what's been going on, otherwise I can't help," Jim leaned forward. At this moment he was their father figure. They trusted him but both of the remaining band members were unwilling to say anything.

"Can this wait till the morning, Jim? You need to speak to Deaky," Freddie looked at Brian for approval and the other man nodded.

"If you don't mind Jim. We don't want to betray a confidence and Deaks knows more then we do," Brian apologized.

The older man nodded and said "Fine, we'll talk tomorrow. You guys need your rest. You're on holiday, after all!" he tried to smile but shook his head. "I really am sorry guys," Jim stood up and the two roadies followed him before turning back to reassure Freddie and Brian that they had their support and any protection they needed for the drummer.


John had woken up a couple of hours after he turned the lights out to the feeling of almost breathlike kisses on his face and neck. His first thought was of Roger, who indeed was dropping the lightest of kisses on his skin. He sighed into the feeling, feeling the blonds hair falling on his neck, the scent of floral shampoo, the drummer's skin and warm breath. He felt like he had gone to heaven and slid his hand over the blonds neck and pulled him closer, sighing into a deep kiss.

"I love you, Rog," John turned over, pushing the blond back gently and looking into the drummer's blue eyes. He pushed his own hair over to one side and gently kissed the blond almost chastely as he was so aware of the fragility of this new relationship. For a moment they looked into eachothers eyes, as if connecting their thoughts. Roger looked so angelic, his blue eyes were sleepy and soft, his lips pouty. John stroked the blonds lips with his thumb and lay his head next to his on the pillow.

Roger felt his heart racing as he looked into John's grey eyes. He felt unbelievably sleepy all of a sudden and just wanted to curl up next to his friend , realizing how much he loved him and wondering why he hadn't realized it before. He felt tears filling his eyes, blurring the face next to him. He didn't feel sad, just unbearably happy for the first time in over 6 months. He felt himself being pulled into comforting arms, a hand rubbing his back, as his eyelids closed and sleep overtook him, again.

Chapter Text

Freddie, Brian and John, along with their roadie Greg were meeting at Jim's office that morning. Freddie had not explained to the bassist yet about why they were leaving Roger behind. The drummer was obviously exhausted and not feeling well and John felt he was probably coming down with something. Ronnie had offered to stay behind at the flat and watch over the drummer he did his timesheets from the tour .He had Jim's number if he needed to call them.

Jim has asked to speak to the bassist privately but relented to Brian and Freddie going with him for moral support. The guitarist felt it was too much for the youngest member to take in by himself. They had sat together on the couch, with John in the middle, across from Jim. The manager lost know time in coming to the point and asked John to tell him what happened to Roger, 6 months previously. The brunette had looked at both Freddie and Brian, frowning that they had divulged something told in confidence.

"Jim, you better tell him what this is about first." Brian looked at the older man who nodded. The manager took out the 4 letters that had been received and opening one showed it to the youngest man.

"There have been some threats against Roger," he said simply. "That's why I didn't want him here and the guys thought I should speak to you first," he explained.

John took the letter, feeling his hand shake. Before even reading half of it, he felt bile in his throat and excused himself, dashing into the small bathroom off Jim's office and shutting the door. They could hear him retching and Freddie put his face in his hands. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he said to himself, and Brian rubbed his back.

John returned, white and shaking and sat down again between his two bandmates.

'Ok, Deaks?" Brian squeezed his arm and the younger man shook his head.

'Ok, I'll tell you what happened," he sighed and there were tears in his eyes. He launched into the story, not stopping once, just glad to get it over with. Jim listened in a fatherly way, and afterwards grabbed a notebook and wrote down a few things. Freddie and Brian both had their arms around John, feeling his body shake.

" I want to get him away from here, " John's voice was shaky but firm. "I can take him to my moms or what about Ridge Farm?" he looked at Freddie and Brian and Jim, in turn.

"That does sound like a good idea, Jim," Brian nodded, looking at the older man, willing him to consider the younger mans plea.

"We'll talk about it later, guys. I know you're all upset and the most important thing right now is to keep Roger safe," Jim smiled at John whose eyes were staring at the wall behind the desk. "John, I think your actions six months ago were exemplary and it must be very difficult for you having to betray a confidence."

"I just want to keep him safe," John felt a sob in his voice and squeezed his eyes shut. The two older bandmembers sat supportively closer to him.

"We all do, Deaks," Freddie whispered. "We love him, too,"

Right," Jim stood up from his desk and came back around to sit across from them. "First, of all, we are not going to let anything happen to Roger. I don't think we should even tell him about this other then let him know there's a nutty fan out there threatening the band in general. That way we can have Ronnie or Greg with him and it will seem part of normal security for something like this," he looked kindly at John who was pressed between his two bandmates. "I'm sorry, Deaks. I know you two are close and you want to keep him safe as much as we do. There was no easy way of telling you." he said softly.

"I know," John tried to smile but couldn't. He felt like crying. He thought they were finally getting that night, six months ago, behind them and now it was forced again into the open for others to discuss. He listened while Jim outlined the plan, including speaking to the police and tracking down the sender of the letters. The originals were already with the CID and everything was being done. The information John had given Jim about the Pub where he had found the drummer 6 months ago, had been relayed to the detective in charge.

"Can we go now? Rog wasn't feeling well, when I left. I should get back," he stood up and crossed his arms tightly around himself, shivering.

They had been silent on the short drive home. Greg had joined them after having a quick talk with Jim and was going to talk to Ronnie when they got to the flat. John waited, impatiently as the flat door was unlocked and walked quickly to their shared bedroom, softly closing the door.

"Hey, Rog," he sat on the edge of the bed. The blond was in the exact same position he had left him in but his face was warm and his hair in damp curls on his forehead. 'Baby, wake up, yeah," he bent over to kiss his cheek. 'Rog, wake up, please," he felt the desperation in his own voice.

Freddie jumped up when he heard John calling him frantically from the bedroom doorway. "Freddie, I can't wake Rog up! He won't wake up,"


The ambulance had only taken 10 minutes to arrive and Roger was taken to emergency, still not gaining consciousness. John had gone with him in the ambulance and the others including Greg and Ronnie and taken Greg's van to the hospital. They were all stunned after the mornings disclosure and now their friend's illness after the tour. It was all too much for them to take in and they hardly said a word to eachother on the way to St. Stephen's in Fulham.

Blood tests and an x-ray were done quickly while Roger was taken to a private room arranged by their manager, Jim Beach. The doctors had talked to Jim and the band and they were pretty sure the drummer had a bacterial lung infection and would probably been in the hospital for at least a week if not longer. The band thought at least he would be safe there as each one of them would take turns sitting with him, so that he was never alone.

John, was sitting with him now, holding the blonds hand in his. Occasionally, he felt the slim fingers move in his and hopefully waited for his friend to open his eyes. Just for a moment, the mornings awfulness had gone to be replaced for concern for Rogers health. The drummer was propped up with 2 pillows, his fair hair and dark lashes making him look so much younger then he was. He was still wearing what he had one to bed in the night before. John had asked the nurses that they not put him in the usual hospital gown and they had agreed, feeling sorry for the grey eyed young man who was obviously distressed.

One of Roger's hands held the iv needle, taped to his skin,. The other John held to his face for a few moments, willing the blond to open his eyes. A few moments later the dark lashed fluttered and blue eyes were staring sleepily into his. John's heart skipped a beat. Roger was almost angelic looking, unaware of the nastiness outside the hospital.

"Deaks?" the pale brow furrowed and the drummer looked from side to side, taking in the room, then back to his friend who held his hand to his lips.

"Deaks, you looks wasted," he smiled gently. "Am I dying, or something?" he moved his fingers in John's hand.

"No, Rog. You're not dying," the brunette leaned over and kissed the pale forehead, stroking back the blond locks. "You've got a bacterial infection. You're at St Stephen's and the guys are outside with Greg and Ronnie." he nodded towards the door and the hallway.

"I'm sorry, Deaky," Roger put his hand to the other's cheek. "I'm a pain in the ass this week, yeah?"

John laughed softly, shaking his head. "No, you're not Rog. Bad ass yes, pain, no," he took hold of the free hand again and kissed it.

"We never got my fourth wish, did we,?" Roger sighed and moved his head closer to John's. "We never got to snog," he smirked. "Funny word, snog." he remarked and coughed, laying back on the pillows. "Whoa, I feel so weird," he puffed out his lips. 'I didn't pee myself or anything disgraceful?" he partly joked and John knew he was trying to be light hearted for his sake.

."Naw, you behaved yourself, Rog," They looked at eachother for awhile then John said softly. 'I'll let the guys know you're awake, yeah?" he stood up but the blond grabbed his hand for a moment.

'You won't leave me tonight, Deaks," he beseeched him, suddenly his bravado had disappeared.

John leaned over and kissed him on the lips. "Just try and get rid of me," he smiled, pressing his forehead to the blonds. John opened the door to let the others know that the drummer was awake, but saw 2 police constables and a plain clothes detective talking to Jim while Brian and Freddie listened. They looked over to see the brunette motioning to Brian and Freddie to come into the room. It was going to be a long time before anything felt like normal again.

Chapter Text

Brian and Freddie agreed to sit with the drummer while John went back to the flat to have a shower, change and pick up clothes, etc. for himself and Roger. Jim had spoken to the bassist in the hallway outside Roger's room and told him he had arranged for a cot to be delivered so he could stay overnight with him and get some sleep, too. John couldn't imagine that he would sleep that well but he thanked him and tried to smile. He knew Roger would be happy for him to be there as he had promised.

"Look, Deaks," Jim put a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "Roger isn't dumb, even when he's sick. He's going to know something is up. Have you thought about what you want to tell him or would you rather me or Brian or Freddie? We don't want him to know the extent of the threat but he will be pretty annoyed if we kept it entirely from him, don't you think?" he looked at the thin, shy man, nearly 2 years younger then the drummer and wondered how two such opposite people could be such good friends. The drummer was so outgoing and mouthy and the bassist pretty much kept to himself and didn't have a string of girls following him around. But there it was. Best friends.

"I guess so. Yeah, you're right. He will be pissed if he finds we kept something from him. I'll think about it on the way to the flat and let you know, if that's ok?" he looked and felt suddenly so useless. It was beginning to get overwhelming but he decided to let the others concentrate on finding the source of the threat and he would concentrate on his friend's emotional well being.

The older man agreed, and said he would have either Ronnie or Greg sit outside the room as long as the drummer was in the hospital. Arrangements were being made for the band to go directly to Ridge Farm once Roger was better, under the pretext of putting down a few tracks for their next album.

John had arrived back at the hospital 30 minutes later with an overnight bag with a change of clothes for both he and Roger and their toiletries bag. Before entering the room John had nodded at Ronnie and shook his hand as the roadie sat staunchly outside the hospital room in a hardback chair, his big hands on his knees, looking up and down the hallway for signs of trouble. It made John smile to see such devotion from the big guy. I guess he doesn't mind the 'touchy, feely band' after all, he thought to himself.

Roger, still propped up on pillows, was sleeping peacefully. Freddy sat next to him, holding the slim fingers in his hand. 5 minutes worth of visiting had knocked the drummer out. The doctor had been in and out and Brian had helped their friend to the bathroom before he had drowsed off. The private room had a full bathroom and Brian thanked God for Jim and his influence with head office.

"Hey, Deaks," the two smiled at him and noticed how tired he looked. He'd brushed his hair and washed his face but there were dark smudged under his grey eyes just since the morning. He had gone straight over to the other side of the bed and even though the drummer was obviously asleep, he touched his shoulder gently, to let him know he was there. Amazingly, the blond smiled slightly in his sleep and turned his head towards that side. Freddie and Brian exchanged glances that expressed their affection for both of them. Nothing could happen to their drummer if Deaky could help it and they were there for an extra layer of protection.

Brian and Freddie said goodnight to John, both giving him a hug and telling him not to worry and that Jim would be getting sandwiches and coffee for him. Ronnie, sitting outside of the room was under instructions not to let anyone but Jim, Brian and Freddie or the doctor and the nurses into the room. With these precautions John felt easier. The cot was in the corner of the room, still folded and there was a reasonably comfortable visitors chair near the bed. He pulled it a bit closer to the side opposite the drip stand and sat down with a sigh.

Jim found John asleep, the TV remote in his hand, the TV on mute so as not to disturb the patient. He quietly put down the brown bag with sandwiches and fruit and a container of coffee near the chair. He stopped for a moment to survey the scene, saw the cot had been delivered and the drummer was peaceful, his breathing somewhat shallow but less ill then he had looked earlier. John had woken and smiled his thanks at him, glancing at Roger as he did and back at Jim who nodded his approval and left saying he would see them in the morning.

John got up and unnecessarily smoothed the covers over the blonds shoulders, and bent over to kiss his forehead, stroking back the blonds messy hair from his face. He was rewarded with sleepy, blue eyes, looking up at him for a moment before closing again. John felt as if his heart would break for love of him.

John had eaten the sandwiches and drank the coffee while watching a police drama on mute. The nurse had come in for a final check, noticing Roger's temperature had gone up slightly. The antibiotics should have prevented that but he had a serious infection she explained. John had nodded, and started to fold down the all ready made up cot, but before he did he checked on Ronnie, who had also received a pack of sandwiches and other food items form Jim. John asked him if he'd like to use their bathroom before they settled in for the night and the roadie agreed, thanking him, gruffly.

"How is the little fella?" Ronnie asked somberly and very sincerely, nodding towards the sleeping drummer, and John told him he would be better soon and thanked him for all his help.The older man blushed and excused himself to use the bathroom.

John had tried to keep the contents of that letter Jim had showed him that morning from his mind, afraid his shock and concern would transmit to Roger, who was very intuitive when it came to secrets. He had fallen asleep quickly but soon the dreams or really, nightmares had started. The contents of the letter had mixed with that awful night, 6 months ago and he was suddenly on the other side of a door, hearing his friend's dreadful screams from the other side and he couldn't get to him. The door had disappeared and all he had was a blank wall in front of him, with no way to get to the other side and no one to help him. He had fallen, sobbing on the floor, imagining the torture the love of his life was going through.

Roger had heard his friends cries and woken to see John tossing back and forth on the cot. He couldn't reach him because of the IV needle in his hand but stretched his other arm out as far as he could. "'Deaky, Deaky," his voice didn't sound strong enough even to himself but finally the brunette opened his eyes, shaking and sweating in fear from the nightmare. The blond pulled back the covers on that side for his friend to get in beside him. John gratefully crawled in next to him, allowing Roger to hold him against his warm body. He lay his head on the blonds chest, who was stroking back his hair, making ssshhing noises and John couldn't help sobbing against his neck till he finally fell asleep, one arm tightly around him.

"I love you Deaky. So much," Roger kissed the top of the brunettes head, breathing in his comforting scent and closed his eyes, unable to stay awake any longer.

Chapter Text

Roger had been in the hospital for over a week when it was decided that the band would go to Ridge Farm for his convalescence and to do some recordings. In reality, the move was a security measure to protect Roger from the threats from an unknown person or persons.

The band and their entourage had arrived at Ridge Farm on the Tuesday and Roger and John would drive down two days later. Jim had wanted to meet with everyone first along with a detective from London, who was investigating the source of the letters.

"We've ruled out the pub and its owner, where the unfortunate incident happened 6 months ago," the detective was saying. They were all, including Ronnie and Greg, sitting around the long farmhouse kitchen table. Brian was watching the two roadies as the detective spoke and was amazed at their devotion to the band and especially Roger.

Greg was speaking now, asking sensible questions and offering to talk amongst past roadies and current one to see if anyone who had been fired may have a grudge, etc. Jim thanked him for that and said that would be appreciated as he could go places they couldn't. The farm was under surveillance constantly and Ronnie had even brought his brother's Irish wolf hound as extra protection.

John , who had bought a new car with their first royalty cheque was driving with Roger down from London to the farm, in companionable silence. There relationship was never really discussed how it would look going forward but they had managed to share a few moments together. Right now, they were happy just to have time alone together and that would do for now. John would glance over at the blond who was sunk low in the seat, inside his grey roadie hoodie, which was way to big for him. he was half asleep, still really fighting the infection, but the doctor thought the country air would be more beneficial.

Jim had arranged the sleeping arrangements along with Brian and Freddie and it was agreed that Roger and John would share the big double room with the 2 bandmates on either side of them and Greg and Ronnie across the hall. They wanted this time away as much as a holiday for everyone as a recording session. There was a pool table off the livingroom and plenty of food, beer and wine so it could be looked on as much as a get away then work.

Brian and Freddie had filled Jim in about it being better emotionally for the two younger bandmates to share and he was very understanding without asking further questions. Even the two older members weren't share about the relationship but were pretty sure that the room arrangement would be appreciated. The double room had its own bathroom and overlooked the main courtyard of the farm. Freddie had made a joke under his breath about maybe needing earplugs if next door to John and Roger but Brian had given him a withering look that made the singer feel a bit guilty.

Driving into the courtyard at Ridge Farm, John had pulled up the car behind Jim's. They could hear music coming from the barn where the recording studio was set up and John noticed Roger smiling the old Roger smile. He quickly looked around to make sure no one was around and leaned over to kiss the blond who responded with eyes closed and heart pounding. Every day that had passed he felt more and more attracted to the bassist and was looking forward to being alone with him behind a locked door without nurses and doctors breezing in and out. He couldn't voice this to his friend, the words just wouldn't form so he had been forced to just have his hand hold or a chaste kiss on his lips at night before turning off the lights.

Jim had come out to meet them at the door to the farmhouse and the two were very happy to see him. He always gave a feeling of stability to the band and John knew how much he had done to smooth the way for the drummer. He told them that Brian and Freddie were in the recording studio setting things up. They had to walk through the hall that led first into the big kitchen where the smell of dinner cooking wafted to them. They were tired of hospital food and sandwiches brought in and even the drummer felt his stomach rumble in anticipation of real food.

Jim showed them up to their room and John couldn't help but blush when he saw the big double bed. Obviously, it had been taken for granted this would be ok with them. He wondered how that conversation had gone and with whom. He glanced at the blond who had a smirk on his lips. Jim was telling them dinner be in half an hour and to come down for a drink before if they liked and join Brian and Freddie in the recording studio. John thanked him and closed the door, thinking of unpacking quickly and heading downstairs. He looked over at Roger who was standing in front of the old fashioned, full length wardrobe mirror, peering at himself, frowning.

"Ok, Rog?" the brunette stood behind him and placed his chin on the blonds shoulder, peering into the mirror with him. They stood for a few seconds staring at eachother till John slid his arms under Roger's and crossed them over his chest. The drummer closed his eyes, leaning his head back and John pulled his hair back over one side to kiss his neck.

"Me and Deaky," Roger whispered, turning around and putting his arms around his friends waist.

"Rog and me," John whispered back, holding the blond head against his shoulder. "finally," he added and they both smirked at eachother.

Dinner was amazing. Jim had hired a cook and they all sat around the old kitchen table in front of bowls of hot vegetables and a roast beef that made Greg and Ronnie's eyes light up. Jim had brought enough crates of beer and a special bottle of whiskey for Roger.

"Thanks, Jim," Roger grinned as their manager handed him a half filled glass. The rest held a toast with their cans of lager and then tucked into the feast in front of them. Roger, ever perceptive felt as if he had missed a conversation from earlier. He put it out of his mind to ask Jim about later. He laughed as Ronnie told a story about life as a roadie and Greg raised his eyes at the elaborate stories and shrugged as if he was unaware, which made everyone laugh even more.

John sat next to Roger and occasionally squeezed his hand under the table causing the blond to smile into his whisky glass. The drummer really wanted a cigarette but thought the request would be vetoed by all of them as he was still technically sick and he didn't want to whine. He sighed, not realizing how loud it was, and was startled when the conversation stopped and they looked at him with concern.

"Ok, Roger?" Jim asked him.

The drummer sat up straighter and smiled but failed in looking alert, especially after 2 glasses of whiskey. A hot shower and bed, was looking really nice but he had his image to keep up. But, fuck the image. He stood up, stretching and said good night to everyone, wondering how Deaky would come up to their room and how long it would take him.

Roger had just got out of his clothes and was heading to the shower when Deaky came up. He had brought a couple of cans of beer. "Hi Rog,' Deaky greeted him with a sweet smile and the blond, naked, halfway to the bathroom to shower felt suddenly shy and unsure of himself. Not a feeling he was use to.

"Shower?" The drummer invited, nodding towards the bathroom and the bassist nodded, a grin crossing his lips. The shower was already sending billows of steam into the bathroom when John stepped into the stall. Roger was standing under the shower turning slowly to wet his hair before shampooing it. He turned as John stepped in beside him and smiled shyly as the brunette took the shampoo bottle from him and squeezed out the creamy substance onto the palm of his hand and stroked it onto the blonds hair. Roger stood there, his eyes closed and let the feeling of being pampered drift over him. He sighed with pleasure as his friend pulled him close and lay his face on the others shoulder.


Once the two youngest band members has gone upstairs Jim held an impromptu meeting with the others who were still at the table. "I think you'll agree with me that Deaks needs to concentrate on looking after Roger. I don't want him worried anymore then he is already about what's going on as it will certainly transfer to Roger. He still looks unwell no matter how much he tried not to," Jim finished, shaking his head. The others nodded in agreement.

Freddie spoke up. "It's just so nasty. This threat of sexual torture or whatever these letters are rambling on about. Surely, it's some crank or crazy person. It makes no sense and its so disgustingly graphic," he shuddered and felt tears starting in his eyes. Brian leaned over beside him and rubbed his back.

"We have to take it seriously, Fred," Jim nodded sympathetically. "But, the police and myself are suspicious of the nature of the threats especially what happened to Rog at that pub."

"I'll kill the bastard that touches one hair on Blondies head. Sorry, Roger's head!" Ronnie slammed his fist on the table and blushed when everyone smiled at his rare display of affection. Greg raised his yes, and play punched him on the shoulder.

"You big sap," the head roadie said and felt very proud of his friend.


After John had washed Roger's hair the blond did the same for him. They both knew this was going to be part of their getting used to being intimate with eachother. Even though there had been many nights in the last 6 months that Roger had crawled naked into bed with his friend, that was before they knew about eachothers feelings. John was letting his boyfriend set how quickly their sexual relationship moved. He mirrored the blonds actions when touching him, to let him know that he would never do anything that would make him feel uncomfortable or rushed. It was all new to him as well and he felt this relationship was something precious that has to be nurtured carefully.

Still under the shower spray, Roger had put his hands on either side of John's jaw and closing his eyes, his lips parted, his heart pounding, as he kissed him and felt the same pressure back. He heard himself moaning and it startled him to feel such sexual attraction to another man. Blue eyes looked into kind grey eyes and words weren't needed. Roger entwined his fingers in the brunettes hair, tugging it and John took the cue and did the same, being rewarded with a deep searching kiss that felt like sex itself.

John felt the same emotions overcoming him. He had never felt so attracted to anyone as he did Roger. He ran his fingers lightly over the blonds hips and felt the drummers calloused fingers touching him, wrapping his fingers around his hardening cock. Mirroring his movements John did the same and as then all sense of time or place had disappeared and they were two bodies intertwined, leaning against the wall of the shower stall, hungry mouths pressed together, hand movements faster as John pressed his knee in between the blonds legs to support him. The shower drowned their moans and neither wanted the moment to ever end. Roger's head rested on his lovers shoulder, his lips kiss swollen and pink as the other brought him to an orgasm that left him shaking and then he felt the brunette gasp and pull his hair as he met his climax seconds later.

John wondered if Roger would fall asleep as he did after sex and was not surprised when the blonds eyes had closed, and still upright, his body leaned in against his and completely relaxed. John held him close, letting the water clean them up and stroked the blonds back in circular motions. Neither had said a word during the entire time under the shower. A few minutes later, Roger had recovered himself and look dreamily into John's eyes.

"I love you Deaky," he parted his lips to kiss him and felt strong arms encircle his waist holding him close.

"I love you, Rog," John whispered into his ear. "It's time for bed, baby."

John had towel dried his hair for him and ran a comb through the blond locks. Roger had hardly spoken and John realized he must be unbearably tired by now and sure enough as soon as his head hit the pillow the blond was asleep. John lay beside him and gently kissed the pink lips and pulled him close. He had made Roger wear a t shirt and pyjama bottoms as he was shivering and still not quite recovered from his illness. The farmhouse wasn't particularly warm and he knew how much the blond hate being cold. "I'll always protect you," he whispered to the sleeping drummer.

Outside, the wind was blowing and Ronnie walked the wolf hound around the farm yard buildings, flashlight in hand, and a determined look on his face. It was all very well having police protection but there was nothing like a motivated roadie and a growling dog.

Chapter Text

It was their first morning at Ridge Farm, but for a moment, as John opened his eyes, he wasn't sure if he was in their own room at the flat, in a hotel room on tour, or still at the hospital. As his mind unclouded his eyes looked down on the sleeping blond next to him. Lips apart in sleep, blond waves nearly covering his face. His head lay close to John's shoulder, one leg and an arm draped casually over the bassists body. The brunette watched him sleeping for a few moments before sliding himself carefully from underneath him to use the bathroom and brush his teeth. Looking at himself in the mirror he could see the dark circles were disappearing after just one good nights sleep. He gripped the side of the wash basin and lowered his head, closing his eyes. He felt just a little weary but was trying to keep upbeat for his friend. He composed his face into something more placid and got back into bed. It was only 8 am and breakfast was usually all morning on the farm..


Roger stretched his legs and arms and opened his eyes with a frown before quickly closing them again once apprised of his surroundings and seeing John next to him. He pushed himself closer into the others body, sighing and laying a soft, wet kiss on the brunettes neck, stretching his neck back, exposing the soft skin of his throat as if inviting John to kiss him there. John smiled to himself, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of Roger's skin under his mouth as he lost no time in taking advantage of the offer. The blonds moan, low in his throat made his own heart beat faster and he heard his name whispered over and over. He stopped and looked up at the drummers lust blown eyes and parted lips and thought he had really gone to heaven.


Jim had arrived just before 8 am to have a meeting with Brian and Freddie and the roadies. They had met for a light breakfast inside the security hut at the entrance to the farm as Jim did not want Roger or John to become alarmed. He had heard the day they had arrived that Deaky had not been able to make himself tell Roger anything at all about a threat. His first instinct was to protect him emotionally and he admitted he just couldn't gather the words together to even start the conversation. Jim had nodded, understanding. The bassist had spent every night at the hospital and couldn't possibly have slept though John would have argued that being alone with Roger was worth it but their relationship wasn't one that was discussed outside the band and Jim had always respected their privacy.

The security hut was a little more spacious then expected and they all fitted around a table with their coffee, tea and baked goods that the cook had lain on for them. They all chatted comfortably but Freddie and Brian felt a little unsure about always excluding Deaky from these meetings, though they realized it was better for him to keep the drummer occupied. Freddie smirked thinking about what they were occupied with as he had had a confidential discussion with the bassist the evening before about where his relationship with the drummer was heading and how he wanted to be prepared. The singer had been frank with him and gave him as much advice as he could along with practicalities. His number one advice as under no circumstances to hurt 'my Roggie' and stop immediately if asked to. John had nodded his head furiously at this agreeing he couldn't possibly hurt him physically or emotionally even if the past had never happened. Freddie was relieved to be able to trust the younger man.

"You probably don't know this Deaks. I've known Roger for a few years longer then you but he had a bastard of a father who was pretty free with his anger and fists so I'd rather think he was in healthy relationship even if you are two years younger then him, right?" he gripped John's shoulder and received a sweet Deaky smile in return.

"But look, guys," Jim smiled looking around at them all. "This could be possibly just nothing but some nut out there. The police are doing they're best and head office has laid on special police surveillance.

Ronnie interrupted him. "So, sorry Jim, but if there is nothing to worry about and it's just some fucking nutter out there, that's an damn lot of security for a couple of threatening letters. What's the deal?" Brian clapped him on the back nodding agreement.

"Ronnie's right, Jim. We're not a bunch of schoolgirls here. Where do you think these threats are heading?" Brian looked at Freddie who had gone pale.

The singer spoke up. "You're worried about a kidnapping, right?" he choked out and leaned back in his chair. "Fuck," he closed his eyes.

Jim, looked at them all seriously. "That is the line of thought, just now. it has to be considered," he looked at them all.

Greg stood up and nearly knocked his chair over. "I'm going over to the house. No one's going to hurt those two or the rest of the band," he said under his breath and Ronnie stood up also. At that moment Brian, Freddie and Jim were never so proud of these two tough guys that they looked on as friends.


John lay his head back on the pillow beside the blond who was wantonly stretched out naked on the bed, his eyelids half open, his mouth kiss swollen . It had crossed John's mind that the girls that followed the drummer around would be quite surprised to see the condition he was in while in bed with another man. John felt amazed that he could have caused the blond to be like this and loved him even more for obviously feeling safe with him and very horny, he smirked to himself. He kissed his way down the drummers chest, his light fingers trailing over his hips and planting little kisses on the inside of the thighs that parted for him. He kissed the blonds hardening cock and looked up for permission to go further. Roger looked down at him with an angelic smile and dug his fingers into the brunettes hair as he felt him take him into his mouth. John tasted the pre cum on his tongue and moaned into his task. The drummers hips lifted slightly and his back arched as he whispered 'Deaky' over and over till John knew from the way the blonds cock twitched that he was close and he let his fingers take over as he pulled the him into a deep kiss as warm  legs wrapped around his waist as he climaxed and he felt the warm sticky cum over his fingers. It took only a few strokes of himself to fall shuddering onto Roger's body and they lay panting together for several moments. The drummers chest was glistening with sweat as he fell asleep as usual, his fingers tangled into his lovers hair.

John carefully got up and went to the bathroom to clean up and came back with a washcloth to clean Roger before he woke up. The blond was still on his back, his legs spread apart, the sheet covering his thighs and hips. John watched him for awhile, wondering how the drummer could look so angelic and be so incredibly hot at the same time.

"Rog, I'm going to go down and grab us some breakfast, ok?" John said softly to the half awake drummer, snuggled under the covers, his blue eyes half closed and the dark lashes shadowing under his eyes. "I'll just be ten minutes, yeah?" John added and glanced at the clock. It was 9 am. The guys would probably be down there as they liked to get an early start in the recording studio and he knew the two of them wouldn't be needed till later.

The 5 guys including Jim and the roadies looked up smiling at John as he entered the kitchen and laughed as he raised his eyebrows at the sight of so much food. The middle aged woman at the stove beamed at him. She loved cooking for a group of men with good appetites. John explained he just wanted to grab some food for he and Roger as the drummer was still tired after his hospital stay. The cook immediately started putting together a tray and Brian persuaded John to join them in a cup of coffee.

They kept the conversation light as there was an outside person present and asked if they had slept well. John felt a bit embarrassed till he realized they were sincere and there were no hidden meanings in their questions. It was so nice just to hang out with them all normally at home and not in the hospital where they had to keep their voices low and focus on the drummer.

Roger opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. It seemed so long since Deaky had gone downstairs and he frowned to himself. Calm down, Taylor, he thought. He thought back to the incredible morning they had had after waking up and he sighed, hugging the pillow next to him. He hoped they had many more mornings the same from now on. He could see Deaky's soft grey eyes looking into his with such love it made him blush thinking about it. He glanced again at the clock. It was senseless but he felt the wave of panic settle over him making him feel suffocated and he felt his body start to shake. No, no, no he screamed silently and squeezed his eyes shut.

John realized he had been downstairs closer to 20 minutes and excused himself, carrying the heavily laden tray with the coffee, toast and 2 plates of bacon and eggs. He pushed opened the door with his foot and lay it on the old fashioned dressing table before looking over at Roger who he imagined would have gone back to sleep but he was sitting with his arms wrapped around his chest and his eyes squeezed shut.

"I'm sorry I was so long, Rog," he pulled the drummer towards him recognizing the beginning or end of a panic attack. These attacks had become less over the months but the change in where they were staying may have triggered it after the months of touring and then the hospital. John hated it when Roger wouldn't reply and tried to fill the silence with pouring the drummer a cup of coffee and a handing him a plate of toast. He doubted he would ever eat that much food but he could be surprised.

"I bet you want a smoke, Rog?" he smiled at him and received the Roger Taylor smirk and a scoffing noise.

"I guess you'd be right," the drummer took the coffee and sipped it frowning. "Everything tastes weird," he remarked but finished the coffee and took the proffered toast and some bacon. "What's going on, Deaks?" the question was simple and the blond was reaching for his t-shirt when he said it. Pulling the shirt over his head he looked at the bassist who looked surprised by the question.

"What do you mean?" John turned away but felt a hand on his arm. The moment was suddenly charged with something else and he fell back against the blonds arms, their mouths crashing together in a sloppy, awkward kiss. "Whoa," the brunette lay his head back on the pillow. "Wasn't expecting that," he grinned.

The drummer smiled, placing his hand between them, his fingers outstretched. John held the fingers entwined in his and brought them to his lips, placing a soft kiss on each finger, making the blond smile almost shyly but his friend knew that there was something bothering him. After all these months together he recognized that look but knew he would have to wait for the answer as it was usually wrong to jump to any conclusions. Roger was a hell of a lot intuitive then any of them put together.

"Do I have come down to the studio Deaks?" His voice sounded whiney even to him and he frowned at himself wondering he felt so tired and cranky all of a sudden.

John knew he had to get him into the studio with the others so suggested after breakfast the drummer get dressed and could just hang out on the couch in the recording room. 

"Brian and Freddie will expect your input," he added.

The drummer scoffed at the last remark and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right!" he struggled to sit up and John felt concerned. Maybe the medication was having an adverse effect. 

Roger was dressed finally and wearing the over sized roadie hoodie which seemed to be his  security blanket now. He was curled up on the studio couch and watching Jim and the band discussing different sounds. Freddie singing a few verses of a new song. John kept looking over at him. Finally, Roger fell asleep, his hands hidden in the arms of the hoodie, curled under his chin, listening to all his friends voices wash over him.




Chapter Text

Tim had grown bitter over the years since he had split with Smile the band who soon afterwards had been known as Queen and quickly hit the charts and were on well paying US tours. Their bios and pictures were in every music magazine and the tabloids. The popular story was that he had split Smile over artistic differences which was somewhat true except he had wanted to take Roger with him but the main reason, the real reason that only Tim knew was that he wanted Roger and Roger did not want him.



Tim was hurt when the drummer laughed at him for the suggestion. "But whats your plan, Tim?" the drummer kept asking him. "Are you just trying to piss off Brian or do you really want to form a new band?" the blond blew a plume of smoke in the air and narrowed his eyes.

"It was you that decided to move on. Said we weren't going anywhere." The drummer stabbed the air with his freshly lit cigarette.

Tim, who never until he met Roger been attracted to another man felt his face go red. Despite looking like an angel the blond was more then capable of standing his own ground. He was stubborn and pragmatic and unless something made absolute sense he refused to join in.


They were having this discussion in a noisy, crowded pub and Tim had already hit his drinking limit before Roger had arrived. The blond was wearing those ridiculously tight jeans and a black leather jacket and the girls in the pub were practically salivating when he walked in, tossing the mane of long blond hair till it settled over his shoulders and he gave them all the Roger Taylor smirk. Even Tim felt the full power of the drummers charisma hit him like a rock and he clutched onto the side of the bar.


"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" The blond was speaking to him but checking out a pretty girl at the end of the bar, one of the many familiar faces that hung around the band, especially Roger. Tim felt stupidly jealous. Why couldn' Roger just focus on him for 5 fucking minutes? 


As if reading his mind the drummer turned back to Tim and gave him his full attention but he had a sardonic look in his eye that the singer resented. He tried not to garble his words but something about the drummers stance and edginess made him unsure. 


"Look, Rog. You could do so much better then Brian. You've lost your bassist, I'm leaving, come on mate," he heard the whine in his own voice and made the mistake of squeezing the drummers arm for a little longer then necessary. He saw the blonds eyes narrow as he pulled his arm away and in that moment he knew he had lost his argument. 


The drummer took a drag from his cigarette and stubbed it out with finality on a nearby ashtray.

"Fuck off,Tim," he practically growled at him with his raspy voice that Tim loved but he was unlikely to hear it again. He watched the blond turn and nod at the girl at the end of the bar who smiled and grabbing her coat fwollowed the drummer out of the pub.

It had been nearly 3 years since that night and Tim had managed to form a new group but they were no where as successful as Queen. He had tried not to be resentful but about 4 months ago he had been invited to an after party when Queen had played in Manchester. He had had had a brief chat with his former bandmembers who were gracious to him, none more so then Roger who had a forgiving nature. 

Tim smiled and praised, all of the time watching the drummer out of the corner of his eye.

The drummer was even more attractive and was still wearing the eye make up from the concert making his eyes bluer and his dark eyelashes longer. But what both suprised and enraged Tim was the obvious, at least to him, of how the bassist John Deacon and the blonds attatchment to eachother. He recognized the look but now Deaky was getting the full power of the drummers attention.


Tim had mailed the third letter. He was always half expecting the police to knock on his door. He had mailed the letter from a town several miles outside of London and was now parking outside the building where he was living now. It was a cheap flat. No where near the near luxury he knew his former bandmates lived. He climbed the threadbare carpeted stairs and unlocked his flat then unlocked the door to a small spare bedroom. Just about every square inch was covered with pictures of Roger. But there were also pornographic pictures of young men in  bondage during various sex acts, and each of these had the drummers face stuck over the original.


Tim sat down in his desk chair and smiled , looking at each picture in turn as he had hundreds of times before.


Freddie watched Brian and John argue over a single note and snapped off the switch into the recording room before turning to look at the sleeping drummer. The blond had hardly moved in the last hour and his oldest friend was getting concerned. He could see John out of the corner of his eye as the bassist was making motions aski g if Roger was ok.The singer put both hands to the side of his face indicating sleep and gave the thumbs up sign though he wasn't convinced, himself.


"Hey Rog," The singer sat next to his friend on the couch and patted his arm. The blond looked so cozy and sleepy, his hair a beautiful , tangled mess. The drummer fluttered his eyes open and he smiled, struggling to sit up but fell back with a sigh. "Its ok, baby," Freddie said softly. "Jim is getting the local GP to come and check you out," but he was sure he wasn't heard.


John and Brian had come to a resolution and were back in the control room. John had immediatley crouched down beside the drummer and aware of Freddie and Brian watching him, he squeezed the blonds fingers. There was a slight response and the bassist looked at Freddie who whispered the doctor was coming. A few moments later an older man in a tweed jacket was shown into the studio and the three hovered near by not wanting to leave their friend alone with anyone.


Dr Patterson said a few words to Roger who nodded sleepily and turned so he was lying flat on his back while the doctor took out a stethescope. The doctor looked over at bandmates who were standing a respectful distance away trying to look busy. He asked if one of them could bring him the current medication Roger was on and John nodded before dashing to the main house and their bedroom. 

 It took John a few moments to find 3 bottles of prescription medicine and he was back in the studio 5 min later to see Dr Patterson was completing his examination of the drummer and was taking a blood sample. He had just given him a vitamin B12 shot Freddie told John who sighed hoping this would help. It was strange being in the recoding studio and not hearing the drummer complaining and mouting off.


Dr Patterson read the labels on the first two and nodded. "I will call the hospital and speak to Dr Henley. The dosage probably needs to be adjusted. Now, this one," he frowned. "Rather a high dosage of anti depressents...prescribed in California?" he frowned at John who shrugged and looked back at the blond who was biting his lower lip.


"Rog was a bit stressed at the beginning of the tour,"  The bassist offered as explanation and pressed his lips together, not wanting to explain further. 


"Well, if thats still a problem I'm going to take these and write a script for a lesser dosage. I suspect these are whats making him so tired on top of the infection. He really shouldn't have left the hospital as from what I heard it was quite serious."

Dr Patterson patted the patients arm and smiled at him kindly. "He's also exhausted, from the tour" he stood up and asked if one of them could pick up the new medication later in the day before he nodded at them all and left.


"Now, what?"Brian voiced it first to Freddie 

"First, lets get him up and walking. The doc said he's probably not eating enough and its close enough to lunch. Also, I'm going to have to tell him at least part of whats going on." The singer looked sadly over at the two younger men. "Deaks is so good with him," he murmurred and then smiled at Brian who nodded. 


Brian had tried to shelve his feelings for the drummer and was somewhat succeeding but there was something so compelling about him. Was compelling even the right word? He couldn't get that night when the blond had asked for sanctuary and he had laughed at him, not knowing about the trauma he had gone through. He felt himself blush remembering waking up the next morning with the drummer in his arms. He could even remember the smell of his hair and the warm breath on his neck.


He must have zoned out in his thoughts as he realized Freddie was talking to him and Deaky had got Roger onto his feet. The drummer made them laugh as he did a few little jumps and shook his arms as he did before a concert. Of course, he nearly fell off balance but John held his arm firmly. The bassist was a lot stronger then he looked but it was a welcome moment of humour. 

Freddie couldn't help but ruffle up the blonds hair affectionately and received a sweet smile from the drummer. The singer had known him longer then the others and had been there when the drummer had first arrived in London. Freddie had spent many a night listening to Roger talk about his family life, an abusive father and a loving mother and little sister. He'd picked him up off the floor when he had drank too much or broken up with a girlfriend. He'd rocked hi  to sleep when life became overwhelming for the younger man. In reward, he had a loyal friend who respected him and trusted his advise.


Brian knew some of Rogers back story but would never be privie to all of it. He just had to be content with the small bits of the drummers affection that might come his way.


Lunch was again an extravaganza for a group of hungry men and even Roger managed to eat a decent amount. John had made him drink coffee and there was a noticable alertness surfacing though the drummer still wasn't talking as much as usual.


"It's great to see you guys," the drummer smiled at Ronnie and Greg. "But why are you here?" he frowned, puting his head to the side. 


There was a silence before Freddie explained that Jim thought it would be a nice holiday for the two of them.


" But..," the drummer was going to say both roadies had kids and wives but it seemed too tiring to go on with the questions and Freddie had told him he needed to have a chat with him later, anyway. So maybe this mystery would be answered.


Roger listened to everyone and nodded appropriatley, but all the time he couldn' help thinking all he wanted to do was spend the afternoon under the covers with Deaky. He was sitting opposite him at lunch and even though he tried very hard not to look at him he found his eyes wandering to his face. Each time he blushed when Deaky would look at him and smile, certain  their minds were on the same track.


Finally, lunch was finished  and everyone dispersed. Before Roger could say it John said he looked tired which forestalled the chat with Freddie. Normally, the drummer would get that over with but he had only one thought in mind and it didn't include chatting.


The short climb to their bedroom seemed to the blond to take forever but once the door was closed he gently pushed the surprised brunette against the door and pressed his lips to his, at first gently and then both with increasing urgency. Roger was the first to start pulling his hoodie off and helping John unbutton his shirt as the bassist pulled the drummers jtight jeans off, laughing at the impossibility of it.

"How the fuck do you get these on?" John giggled as he finally pulled them off as the blond fell back naked on the bed and obviously very aroused, his eyes now half closed not from sleepiness but desire. 


Deaky pulled back the covers and getting into the bed he lay on his back, pulling the blond between his spread legs and then wrapping his arms and legs around him making his lover sigh in contentment.


Roger nuzzled Deakys neck, breathing in the scent of his skin before lifting his head and gazing with so much love into the soft grey eyes that the younger man felt as if his heart would burst as the drummer slid his hand between their hips and did wonderful things with that talented, calloused hand.


Later, as they lay exhausted and sweaty under the covers, Rogers head on Deakys shoulder, his hair being stroked back gently, his leg casually draped over the younger mans. 

He whispered. "Deaky?" waiting for the others reply.

"Hmmm?" John kissed the top of the blond head.


Roger took a deep breath. It was weird being on this side of a relationship. Not what he was used to.

"I think I'd like to...uh, you know, oh fuck," he dug his face, blushing, further into his boyfriends neck. 


"Oh," John squeezed him tighter, understanding. ""Whenever you're ready, Rog," he squeezed a handful of the blonds hair close to his scalp and felt him shudder in pleasure. "It will be the first time for me, too." he added. "Wait maybe till you're feeling better." he said only half seriously. Rogers request made him both scared and happy in equal amounts. A year ago he never would have dreamed he would be in bed with the drummer like this. Amazing how things changed. 


John had to admit he had discussed it with Freddie and was hoping Roger wouldn't be annoyed by the confession. He felt the blond kiss his neck and was grateful he hadn't messed it up.


Roger was telling him how he could always tell when someone really fancied him. It was a knack born from practice he laughed and John smirked. No modesty with Roger. He was saying sometimes it was creepy and the bassist would be surprised. "Like who?" he stroked back the blonds hair surprised it wasn't' putting him to sleep as it usuall did. He felt his lovers body tense. "Tim Staffell." was the answer and John frowned, alert, looking down at the blond head. The drummer had reached fior his hand and entwined their fingers.


" Yeah," the drummer lifted his head and traced Deakys lips with a finger. His eyes were serious though. 

"One night after a gig he tried it on. I was dismantling my kit and he offered to help." Roger bent down and kissed the bassist lightly on the lips. "Got his hands a bit too close to my ass." John stopped him, alarmed at where this story was going. "He said I probably liked it rough." 

The drummer saw his expression. "It's ok, Deaks. I pushed him away and told him he was a wanker," he smirked. "I am a lot stronger then I look." He then told him about the meeting in the pub years before.

"It was like he wanted to dominate me," he explained. "Really gave me the creeps so I left and thats the last time I saw him sine that gig in Manchester". As if to wipe out the memory Roger closed his eyes and kissed John again longingly and the brunette wrapped his hand around the blonds neck to keep him there.


They were dressed and downstairs in the studio when John managed to speak to Jim for a few moments, letting him know what Roger had told him.The older man listened intently and nodded. 


"This is definitley worth telling the police," he walked away to where the office was to use the phone after thanking John for the tip. "Rog, just may have solved this," he added but he wasn't smiling.


Freddie and Roger were sitting on the bench outside the farm kitchen. The sun had come out briefly and Roger wearing his favourite patched jeans had just lit a cigarette  and put on his amber sunglasses.


Freddie laughed. "Looking very rock star, darling," as he also put on his sunglasses and leaned back against the brick wall that was warmed by the sun. 


" Don't look now Fred but we are rock stars,"  the drummer smirked and they both laughed.


" Darling, before you were a rock star you wouldn't have been seen dead in those patched jeans,"


"Too right," the blond agreed. " Cost 3 weeks pay in poor money," and they laughed again.


Now the atmosphere was lighter Freddie told the drummer about the threatening letters focused on the band and that was why the roadies were acting as extra security. The drummer listened, nodding, frowning at parts, smoking his cigarette.


"If the office is taking it seriously," the younger man started to say then stopped."Why didn't you tell me before?" He turned and looked at Freddie.

"We would have but we didn't hear ourselves till the day you went to the hospital and then you have been out of it dear, you must admit," Freddie patted his leg and changed the subject.


"How are you and Deaky doing? And darling don't go coy on me," he smiled showing all his teeth when the drummer gave him a withering look.


"Fine," was the answer followed by a smirk. "Very fine," he added then blushed and stood up.


"As long as you're happy, Rog" the singer stood up and gave the blond a light hug. 


The blond turned away and stopped . "Thanks Fred. I really do care about Deaky. Imagine," he looked over his shoulder. " Me and Deaks." he flicked his cigarette onto the gravel and walked towards the recording studio.


" Yeah, imagine," Freddie grinned and shook his head following the drummer.




The police had arrived at Tim Staffells flat. He wasn't there and neither were the pictures. Two had fallen behind a dresser and they gave the police reason to put out an all points bulletin and warn Jim that the new suspect was on the move. 








Chapter Text

St Stephen's hospital seemed like the most likely bet for where the drummer was a patient. After reading in Melody Maker that the drummer had been hospitalized after suffering from exhaustion the old bandmate had made the decision to give his friend a visit. He scoffed at the 'exhaustion' reference as he thought it probably meant worn out from shagging anything that moved.

Tim had bought the most expensive bunch of flowers he could ill afford after reading the article and getting the train to London. He sneered, re reading the article again, that showed a very hot picture of the blond, his head thrown back, eyes half closed during a US concert.

"Poor little drummer princess." he sneered using the expression ex roadies had used about the erratic musician. They didn't last long with the band if Greg or any of the band members heard some of the the indelicate names he was called and that one was mild. The drummer flew off the handle at the least thing and new roadies resented the mouthy musician.

Tim made his way to the small private wing of the hospital and found a lone ward nurse at the desk. She looked up at him, ready to be dismissive until she saw the enormous bunch of blooms in front of her.

'Silly bitch', Tim thought to himself and used his most ingrationating smile. He tried to keep the smile when the nurse told him Mr Taylor had been discharged 3 days ago and had been picked up by one of the other band members. Mr Deacon, she thought the name was.


"Oh, right. Deaky," Tim nodded, showing he was well in with the band. He explained he only just heard about his sick friend as he was a roadie, touring witn Led Zeppelin and had only just heard the news. By then a few more nurses had gathered, admiring the flowers and giggling about their famous patient and how sweet he was and had given all the nurses an expensive box of chocolates.


Tim thought to himself ' not as sweet as when I have his fucking hands and feet tied up.' he kept a sweet smile on his face as he asked if they knew if the drummer had gone home to Kensington?

The nurses looked at eachother. They would never have given out personal information, even if they knew it but one of the nurses said she thought they were meeting the other band members in the country as Mr Deacon had said Mr Taylor would need warm clothes for a few days.


Tim nodded thanks and grudgingly handed over the expensive bouquet to a pretty Irish nurse.


The country? Where the fuck in the country? He stood outside the hospital watching the traffic on the Fulham Road. Then it dawned on him. Ridge Farm! It had recently been turned into a recording studio for famous bands to get away from it all. He checked his limited resources and he had enough for the train journey. After that, who cared. He would finally get his prize. Roger Taylors sweet ass just where he wanted it. 


Freddie was really pleased with the afternoons practice session. It was more towards easing their drummer back into normalcy but the blond had surpassed all of them by doing a perfect, 2 minute drum solo and showing his voice was well tuned during the harmonies with the singer.

What amused Freddie was the way Deaky looked over at the drummer with almosts a parental look of pride on his face and Brian's suddenly captivated look. Freddie stored that away for future thought.

Roger, himself felt a new energy but three quarters through the practice he felt the cloud coming over him and wished he had taken the new anxiety medication earlier. He took a deep breath, biting his lower lip and concentrating on Deakys hands on the guitar as the bassist turned to face him, a sweet smile on his lips, grey eyes pulling the drummer towards him.

Roger nodded, understanding the unspoken message telling him he could do this. John turned his head away slightly and noticed Brian's almost unwavering attention on the drummer but didn't let himself be drawn into speculation about it. Freddie was happy with the practice and that was good enough for now. He turned back to watch Roger twirl his drumsticks and catching his friends eye the blond raised his eyes to the ceiling and smirked, making John blush pink and lower his eyes, matching a smirk, also. None of this going unnoticed by Brian or Freddie.


Dinner tonight was much more relaxed and Greg and Ronnie, along with Jim, their manager vied with eachother with stories about being on tour with other famous bands and some of the outlandish demands. Roger tried to sip his daily ration of whiskey but after taking his medication after practice he was starting to feel sleepy. He was unaware that Ronnie had already checked their room to make sure the windows were secure even going so far as to peer into the wardrobe and under the bed. 


After the large meal and drinks the drummer said he would go up to have his shower and said goodnight to everyone. Brian and Deaky were in deep conversation and Roger tried to decipher the subject but his hearing seemed to be less sharp since the tour. His eyesight had always been poor and most people were unaware that the sun glasses he habitually wore were prescription shades. He hoped now he wasn't going deaf on top of it. He scoffef at himself and climbed the stairs after catching Deaky's attention.


After getting undressed Roger stepped into the hot shower, turning the heat down a bit before wetting his hair and applying the shampoo and rinsing it. He wished Deaky was there with him but they couldn't make it too obvious. The game still had to be played. He closed his eyes and leaned against the white tiles, humming part of a song to himself, feeling sleepier and less tense then before. It seemed like only moments later that he heard Deaky calling his name but it was faint because of the noise from the shower.

 John saw Roger's discarded clothes on the bed and heard the shower running. He locked the bedroom door and quickly undressed looking forward to his favourite part of the evening. 

The bathroom was foggy with steam and John left the door to the bedroom open to clear it. Opening the glass shower door he found his the blond sitting in the corner of the shower stall, his knees pulled up to his chin, fast asleep uner the running water. Smiling to himself he turned off the water and managed to get the sleepy drummer out of the shower stall and grabbing a towel with one hand dried him off got pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt on him and as it was colder then the night before, the hoodie for good measure.


Roger was vaguely aware of what was going on but could barely open his eyes. He felt the covers being pulled up over him and Deaky getting into the bed next to him. He sighed as the bassists strong arms wrapped around him and he remembered that he had wanted something different then this when he had gone for his shower. Oh, well. In the morning maybe. He placed a wet kiss on Deakys neck before drifting back to sleep.



Jim and the roadies had met with Brian and Freddie for an update on the situation.

"Roger was right in his estimation of Tim's character he was telling them. "Some very unsavoury incidents concerning him have surfaced."

Greg and Ronnie shook their heads. They had recently sent out feelers to their roadie brethren and had come to the same conclusion.

"We just have to make sure Rog is never alone," Jim was saying and the others nodded. Brian would update John in the morning and Freddie just wished the nightmare was over.



In his sleep Roger could hear a dog barking and wanted to ask John what was going on. One of his nightmares was that he couldn't move and it felt like that now. If he could let John know he could wake him out of it. He tried to move his fingers that were entwined in his. He felt the panic overwhelm him till he felt himself being pulled into a sitting position and struggled finally to wake up and look into Deakys soft grey eyes.

"It's going to be ok, baby," John propped the pillows behind him and put a comforting arm around the narrow shoulders, stroking back the blonds hair behind his ears."I promise." Hoping  he could keep the promise.

Chapter Text

Roger woke up slowly, aware he needed to pee but way too comfortable to move. He was propped up on two pillows, Deakys brunette head near his shoulder. He kissed the top of his head, wishing he could see his face. So many times he wanted to tell his friend how pretty he thought he was but was afraid he'd be laughed at. I have to get over this stuff, he thought to himself.

Finally the need to go was greater and he slid out of bed, laughing at himself for going to bed wearing a hoodie but Deaks had insisted. The evening had meant to turn out differently but he knew it was his own fault for taking that stupid pill. He sighed looking in the mirror before washing his face and brushing his teeth. Maybe the morning could be saved at least. He tossed his head and fluffed the back of his hair.

 John woke as soon as Roger slipped out of the bed. He had slept remarkably well snuggled up to the blond. 

"Morning," Roger, naked now slid back into bed just as John padded off to the bathroom after placing a kiss on the blonds head. No more kissing till he brushed his teeth and washed his face. He kicked aside Roger's discarded clothes in the bathroom and added his own sleepwear to the pile and took a deep breath. There was a different feeling in the air this morning.

 John returned to the bedroom to see the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Roger was standing with his back to him, looking out of the window, the moonlight illuminating his lithe body. He had turned his head to look over his shoulder at John, a shy smile on his face, blond hair covering his bare shoulders like an erotic renaissance angel. The brunette felt his heart pounding, keeping his gaze on the lowered eyes and the dark lashes.

John slid one arm around Roger's chest and swept the blond locks off one shoulder so that he could kiss the exposed skin, his chest pressed to the blond's back. Roger bent his head back against his lovers shoulder exposing the pale skin of his throat. John gently kissed him from his chin to his shoulders, holding the blonds right hand in his against his thigh. 

 Roger had never felt so turned on or desirable as at that moment and had emotionally made the decision to tell John what he had meant to last night. He turned, so that they were face to face, each feeling the others arousal. He whispered something against John's shoulder.

"I can't hear you, baby," John pulled his head back looking at the blond head. "Tell me what you want," he asked gently. He suspected what was coming but had to hear the words to avoid a disasterous misunderstanding.

 Roger whispered more clearly. " I want to feel you inside me." His face had blushed pink and John thought it the most adorable thing in the world that Roger Taylor would be shy about sex.

 "You want me to fuck you, baby?" he hadn't meant to be so blunt but the words made the blond press his hardness against him and the calloused drummers hands squeeze his hips.

 "Please fuck me, Deaky," his voice was raspy with desire, his head thrown back now, his heart pounding as he was still a bit scared about going this far.

John was leading him by the hand to the bed and pulling him down beside him and cradling him in his arms to let him know he was safe and loved.

"Are you absolutley sure, angel?" he held the blonds hand against his heart and felt the sensitive fingers squeezed his. Deep blue eyes, framed by dark lashes were looking into his and a chaste kiss touched his lips.

 "I love you, Deaky," the words came in a soft, warm breath against his neck as he held Roger's hand still, wanting to memorize this moment. 

 John gently turned the blond onto his back and putting his own hair over one shoulder and slipping a pillow under the other's hips, he reached for the tube of lube in the bedside drawer. He felt a little embarresed as this seemed the least sexy thing to be doing but again Roger was adorable by putting out his hand to squeeze some on his fingers and reaching between them gently spread it up and down John's cock, causing the brunette to moan in pleasure.

 "If it hurts baby, let me know. I'll stop right away," he stroked back the blond hair and looked into his eyes. Roger nodded, but his eyes were already half closed in anticipation. 

As John, slowly pressed one finger into him he watched the lowered eyes for any sign of hesitation. The blonds breathing was short and quick and John paused for a second before pressing his whole finger into the tight warmth and imagining himself inside the love of his life.

 Roger felt himself floating away on a euphoria of arousal. His hair wet against his forehead, he gave up trying to focus on anything and willed his body to relax. Johns  second finger entered him and  made his back arch in pleasure and a small moan escaped his lips. He wrapped his fingers around his lovers neck to pull him down for a kiss, running his tongue along John's lower lip and tasting the inside of his mouth in a luxuriously slow kiss that left him breathless.He felt himself pushing back and wrapped his leg around John's waist.

"Now, Deaky. Please," his own voice sounded hoarse and he arched his back again as the slim fingers were replaced with the gentle pressure of Johns cock against him.

John watched Roger's lust blown eyes as the blond arched his back again and his neck stretched back. 

"Ah, baby, you're so hot and tight for me." John felt his cock squeezed in pleasure and his chest glistening with sweat he moaned into the blonds neck, pulling his leg tighter around his waist. Rogers hardness pressed against his stomach and he ran his fingers lightly over it, making the blond moan and toss his head from side to side, his lips apart, looking wonton and wrecked. 

 John grasped both of the blonds hands, holding them above his head on the pillow, as they moved into a steady rythem. John pulled himself nearly out before pushing fully back in the warm tightness of his lover causing the blond to almost scream in pleasure. John was glad the old stone farmhouse was practically sound proof and covered Rogers mouth with his own to stifle the moans. 

"You're so good to me, Angel," John moaned into his ear. "So hot, baby."

 Rogers lips were open and kiss swollen and he wasn't even aware of where he was and didn't care, he was too busy chasing the orgasm that was just seconds away and as he felt Johns warmth shoot through him he came himself in his lovers hand, his breath ragged and panting, saying his name over and over. 

 John collapsed on top of the exhausted blond, still inside him, unwilling to pull out, wanting to wallow in the exquisite feeling of being so close with Roger who was already falling into a deep sleep, a slight smile on his pouty lips. John kissed the damp face from forehead to mouth to his shoulders, drinking in the sight of the man he loved splayed out naked on the bed, fast asleep.

 "You are so brave," John said softly, thinking how much courage it must have taken Roger to do this.

He slid off of him and went to the bathroom to clean up and brought back a wet, warm wash cloth to clean up his lover, who unaware, had turned on his side, still sleeping.

Afterwards, John got under the covers next to him, pulling him into his arms, just as the sunlight was creeping through the windows. 

All of the dangers outside the room were forgotten and John fell asleep feeling the blonds warm breath on his neck  knowing he could never be happier then this moment.


Chapter Text

Tim had arrived at the train station nearest Ridge Farm but was pretty sure he didn't have enough money to stay even at the cheapest B&B. He did, however, have enough for a couple of pints and a pork pie at a nearby pub. He had just settled himself at a small table in a corner of the pub with a pie and a pint of lager and was keeping his ears open for any conversations that might indicate the famous band Queen was at the farm turned recording studio, Ridge Farm.

Finally, after wiping his mouth of crumbs and draining his first pint he went up to the bar again, and asking for another pint started a conversation with the bartender about how he had just got off a tour with Led Zeppelin and glad to be done with the spoiled musicians. He was hoping this line of talk would loosen the managers tongue as to any possible info at Ridge Farm but nothing was forthcoming. All he got was a suspicious look.

Tim had disguised himself somewhat, by growing have his hair cut shorter and wearing a smarter looking tweed jacket rather then his usual denim jacket. He was unaware that local pubs had been asked to notify the police if anyone was asking questions about the band.

The pub had quickly filled and most of the patrons seemed to be wealthy young people who camping at a nearby site that catered more to the well off then the economically challenged camper. Tim, inwardly sneered at these customers and made a mental note of where there campsite was. He knew how to save on a B&B and still remain in the area.

It had been easy, after surveying his map of the area, to lift the campers of a sleeping bag, cooking utensils, small tent and food. Tim had made a couple of trips taking his stolen items to an area further away before the campers returned from the pub. They would have a nice surprise, he though to himself. The rich, twats. He didn't have one speck of guilt about stealing. He reckoned he was owed it.

Tim found an wooded area on a small hill overlooking Ridge Farm. With the help of a pair of purloined binoculars he was able to keep an eye on the farm and see who was coming and going. It was difficult in the dark to make anything out so he settled in his sleeping bag with a bag of bread and cheese. He had all the time in the world now, to wait for his prize to turn up.

The hospital had notified the detective in charge that someone fitting the description of Tim Stofell had been enquiring about Roger. This news has been passed on to Jim and then through him  to Freddie and Brian as well as the two roadies, Greg and Ronnie. Extra security had been unleashed and a private security firm was involved. Suddenly, the safe feeling of Ridge Farm had changed and Jim was weighing the options of them seeking another place of refuge.


John knew about the suspect being Tim but had kept the news from Roger. Perhaps, selfishly, he had wanted one day to devote to themselves and their relationship.

This morning had reconfirmed their physical attraction for eachother. John, was amazed at how precious and brave Roger had been. He replayed their lovemaking in his head from the moment he has seen the blond standing naked in the moonlight and he had thought his heart would burst with love for him. He hoped the two band members on either side were unaware of what was going on in the room next to theirs. Roger wasn't exactly quiet and he blushed at the thought of the moans of pleasure they had both given in to.


Roger stretched his arms above his head and immediately turned back into John's side, laying a bare leg across his lovers and gently pushing his face into his neck, sighing in pleasure.

John absently traced circles on Rogers arm, not wanting this quiet moment alone to end. Feeling the blonds softly breathing against his neck, he held him closer.

"I love you, Rog," he whispered tracing the others jawline with his finger.

"I love you, Deaky," the drummer lifted his head, his blond hair falling over his face and John pulled it gently over one of the blonds shoulder, holding the handful of hair in his hand. He thought he had never seen anything more beautiful then the face above him, the dark blue eyes half closed, dark lashes shadowed against his cheeks.

"Can we do it again?" Roger kissed him softly on the lips and even this light touch made the brunette want to moan in pleasure.

Roger was placing light kisses on John's neck and shoulders, whispering how pretty he was as he slid his hands down the inside of the brunettes thighs. He obviously wanted to make love again but John was worried it may be too soon after the first time and he didn't want to hurt him. Gently reversing their position he kissed the blonds lips and sliding his tongue along his lower lip, making the blond close his eyes and kiss him back in a deep satisfying kiss. John continued kissing his neck, then chest and tummy, his fingers sliding around the blonds hardening cock as his tongue licked a stripe from base to tip before sliding it slowly into his mouth, closing his eyes in pleasure at the taste and feeling Roger's hips buck beneath him as he sought out John's hand and squeezed it in his own.


The rest of the band plus Greg and Ronnie were still sitting around the large kitchen table when both Roger and John had joined them, later in the morning. For a moment there was a tense silence and the bassist had a feeling that they were aware of what was going on with him and Roger but this was quickly dismissed, as Jim filled them both in about Tim and the sighting at the hospital.


John had squeezed Rogers hand under the table as he felt the blond tense next to him on hearing the news. Jim was apologizing for springing this on them but it was a safety issue. Roger looked from his bandmates to the roadies, his skin had gone pale and he was starting to wish he had taken his anxiety medication. He was still holding on to the feelings from this morning and was fighting with himself to remain calm. He was unaware that his knee was jerking till John lay a calming had on it. The words Jim was speaking were now just so much noise and Roger looked sideways at his lover as he took a deep breath and reached for his cigarettes. He could see his hand shaking but as separate from himself, as he lit a smoke.

Jim was talking, aware now that the drummer wasn't listening, anymore. He watched the sensitive hands play with the cigarette packet and run his fingers over the top of his coffee mug. John was looking concerned and tried to telegraph to Jim to stop.

There was still hot food on the heated buffet server and John nudged Roger to grab a plate and get their breakfast. Jim took the hint and nodded, smiling at them both.

It was Ronnie who, crossing his arms, and looking at Greg for back up said. 'Enough said, Jim. We hear you."


Freddie groaned inside, when Jim sprung the news on Roger and John. He was very protective of the drummer and even though for safety's sake they needed to be kept in the loop, he still didn't like the look on the blonds face. He was thankful that Deaky was obviously fully aware and alert to his friend and had taken his attention off the danger and back to something normal. He looked fondly at the two youngest bandmates as they piled bacon and eggs and sausages on their plates. It was amazing how much those two could eat, he thought.

Brian, was lost in his own thoughts. He had woken up before dawn and was painfully aware that something other then sleeping was going on in the room next to him. He was happy that Roger, to him a somewhat lost soul, had Deaky in his life. But he couldn't help but feel a little envious and also guilty that he hadn't been the one to know something was wrong with their drummers psyche long before the incident 6 months previously. The blonds endless self confidence had always amazed and somewhat frightened him. It seemed impossible that one person could be so talented, beautiful and so sure of himself. It was as if something had to break.


It had been decided that the band would spend the morning in the studio for some serious recording. Roger had looked much better after eating breakfast and started to get the colour back in his face but he still looked tired. Jim noticed it first and mentioned it to Freddie. He had a feeling they may have taken away from the hospital too soon. Jim mentioned he would have the local GP drop by to check the drummer out. The singer thanked him. He was going to make the suggestion, himself.

Roger had kept close to John and was finding it difficult to concentrate on what the others were saying to him. It was beginning to sound like so much noise, and all he wanted to do was sleep. The couch in the studio looked inviting and he sighed as he lay down on it and closed his eyes. Probably, the large breakfast had made him sleepy, he thought to himself.

The others had noticed that the drummer had lost interest and allowed him to do what he wanted. They had plenty to keep themselves busy with in the meantime.


Later that afternoon, after lunch the local doctor had arrived and checked out the drummer. He agreed that they needed to monitor his condition for the time being and call him if there was any more symptoms. He was concerned about the infection returning as Roger was still not completely over the last bout.

it was late afternoon and Roger was lying on their bed wearing jeans and a denim shirt, his blond hair a tangled mess on his shoulders. He was lying on his side, watching John move about the room, putting the recently delivered laundry away.

"Deaky?" he said softly but his friend didn't seem to hear him. He tried again and this time the brunette turned and smiled at him. He loved that smile. It made him feel warm inside. When the band was at a concert he loved it when the bassist came over to the stand next to him, his back to the audience. It was as if they were the only two people on stage and the drummer would watch those magical fingers and look into those soft grey eyes.

As if he could read his mind, John lay down next to the blond on the bed and pulled him close, pulling the extra blanket over the two of them.

"You look tired, Rog," he stroked back the blonds hair a few times and watched the blue eyes close. If only there only worry was Roger getting better and not the unseen problem lurking outside the room. He kissed the warm forehead and held the drummers hand in his, kissing each finger before closing his eyes himself, unaware that a pair of binoculars was trained on their room.