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Love, Hope and Confusion

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Roger dropped onto the dirty backstage stage sofa, catching his breath a bit. That was the best fucking show they had ever played. He looked around, noting the others on similar trains of thought. And this was their FIRST show with their new members. Incredible. 


"You killed them, Freddie," Roger said, watching the new frontman bounce.


We killed them, darling.”


Brian grinned broadly, feeling the adrenaline burn through his veins as he looked at the band, John was buzzing in a surprisingly quiet way- unlike the extravagant singer who paraded around the sofa.


"Should we go get some drinks?" John asked, looking over to the others. 


"Sure, I'm game," Roger mused, getting up.


Brian nodded to John, watching as Roger got up with a tired grin on his face, in the dim yellow lights he looked quite beautiful really, this sharp anger softened into a soft glow and he looked smaller. Brian shook these thoughts out of his head, moving to walk out of the room as they went towards the bar. There really wasn’t any place for having feelings in a band.


Roger sat beside Brian. His best friend...he wished it was more. He couldn't help sort of gazing at the curly haired guitarist, his shy little smile and all. Brian sipped on the beer, however hard he tried, he couldn't stop slipping glances towards Roger- catching eye contact sometimes. The guitarist hoped that what he felt for the blond wasn't obvious- something like that could ruin their friendship.


"Do you wanna drive tonight?" Roger asked him. He wanted to know if he was supposed to be DD. John was already downing shots, Freddie couldn’t drive, so it was him or Brian.


"Sure, you go on- have fun." It wasn't as if he could deny those big blue eyes anything they wanted.


Roger smiled and nodded. "Cheers," he mused, taking a sip of his beer.


Brian moved his mostly full beer glass towards the drummer, shifting towards the bar to order some water, hoping the cold would detract a little from the blush and sweaty palms that had occurred from talking to his friend. 


They ended up heading home before too long. Roger wasn't drunk, maybe a little silly. Freddie had fallen asleep in the back seat, and John went home on his own, since the other three lived together. Brian kept his eyes on the road, listening to Roger's sporadic comments and Freddie's breathing. Soon enough, they arrived at their small (but surprising homely) flat. Roger and Brian carried Freddie in, dropping him on the sofa before going into their shared bedroom. 


"Truly a fantastic night," Roger mused, dropping back onto his bed.


Brian opened his mouth to reply, but then he stopped himself, was he really going to admit anything? Instead he just nodded his head, and started to change into his pyjamas, wishing he had the courage to just say things. He looked at the drummer who had flopped on his bed in his clothes; 'one day,' he thought, 'I'll tell him.'


Roger yawned a little, stretching. He probably wanted to undress but he was too lazy. He just rolled over and fell fast asleep, holding his pillow. 


The guitarist looked at his roommate, the only man who -at least in Brian's eyes- could make being a tipsy mess look cute. He muttered a quick 'G'night' before turning the light off, sleep slowly crawling on the pair


The next day, Freddie was a hungover mess. Roger wasn't as much, maybe a little headache, but the drummer never ate breakfast anyways. He just settled on the sofa with some coffee. John had come round for lunch that day as the boys tried to work out their schedules between studying and the pub gigs that were getting further and further away each time.


"I...I hate to say so, but we may have to take some time off Uni to figure all this out," Roger mused. "If we really want to commit to this band thing.”


"I think you might just be right," Brian added, knowing it wasn't too bad for Fred and himself who were in their final year, but Roger was in the middle of Uni, and John had only started. "Do you think it'll be worth it? I mean do you see us fifty years from now still together? as a band, I mean."


"Fifty years?" Roger chuckled. "Brian, even the Beatles only last ten."


"I know, I know," he defended, "But do you think it's worth it? I mean we'll lose out on so much study time- at least we've got summer coming up." Although the boys had planned to travel around doing gigs, the traveling meant that they would have more time to study.


"How about...we finish this semester. I'll finish my bachelor's, you get you master's. If you wanna get your doctorate in the future, or if I want a master's, then we'll go back." Seemed like a plan to Roger. Brian smiled, he had always admired how Roger could simplify everything in his head, unlike he himself who overthought and over-complicated everything.


"Then it's settled," John agreed with a nod.


"Well I reckon, since we have our battle plan all worked out, we can probably call this a rest day, whatcha think, dears?" Freddie looked at them from his seat next to John, seeing the tension between the other two.


Roger nodded and got up. "I'm gonna step out for a smoke then."


Brian watched the drummer leave, collected his things from the table; "I had better get some study in." He told the others before going into his shared room and getting to work. Roger agreed, going to grab his own things. He focused on all that crazy bio vocabulary for now.


Soon, the morning fell away to the afternoon, Brian looked at his books, reading the same sentence several times hoping some of the information would stick. None did. He decided then to give his eyes a break for a while and headed to the living room. Roger was laying on the sofa. He was playing with his flashcards, mumbling terms softly to himself.


The dark haired guitarist sat himself on the sofa near the blond's head, "Hey"


Roger glanced up. "Hey, mate. How's it going?"


"Not too bad," he looked at the bits of paper "have you been able to do much revision?". Brian suddenly felt unsure about himself, the domesticity of the situation was still new to him


Roger shook his head. "Mine just sort of.. looks the way it does I think."


Brian smiled, "undoubtedly, you'll pass with no revision, you git," the drummer had a history of scraping through exams after putting in very little effort, "wish the rest of us could do that".


Roger shook his head. "You're a genius, Brian. Your theories about the universe make my brain melt out my ears.”


Brian smiled at that, "Where's the other two at?"


"Freddie was hungry, and since he can't drive for shit he decided to forcibly take John with him." Roger chuckled. "Should've seen him drag the poor guy out.'


"Pick him up like last time?" Brian recalled the singer hauling John out of the door, ignoring the string of protests "'m surprised I didn't hear it"


"Poor guy," Roger mused. "And worse yet, I think he may have a crush on our dashing lead singer."


"I did think they were getting a bit cosy," Brian admitted looking down at the shorter man "they're good for each other. Couldn't think of a better pairing." He really could- not that he was bold enough to say it out right.


"Yeah, it'd actually be quite cute, wouldn't it?" Roger nodded and set his flashcards down. He'd done enough for tonight.


"Well, since I think we've both given up studying for today, whatcha' say to going to get a few drinks?" It was likely going to be the last day they could relax on properly so why not get a little merry?


Roger smiled and sat up a bit. "I have some in the fridge, actually. Unless you really wanna go out."


"Nah, lets just stay in." He replied, shifting to allow Roger space to sit up. Roger did so, tucking his flashcards in his pocket (no need to lose them).


"You just wanting Southern Comfort yeah?" Brian asked, getting up and heading towards the fridge, picking a few cans of cider for himself


"Uh, yeah, whatever we got, I don't really care." Roger stretched a bit, stifling a yawn.


Brian walked back, handing the drummer his drinks, "There you go, lov- mate."


Roger chuckled. "Did you almost call me 'love'?" he asked gently, before taking a sip of his.


"Oh, shut up." He grumbled, face heating up with a deep scarlet blush, "This is Freddie's fault- his bloody vocabulary leaching through."


Roger shook his head, still smiling like sunshine. "It's fine, Bri, I won't hold it against you."


"Of course you won't." Of course he would. Brian smiled at his friend as they relaxed into a comfortable silence side by side on the sofa.


"This is a bit dull," Roger notes after a bit. "Can I put on a record?"


"Sure." They had a very similar taste in music- it was one of the things that drew them together from the beginning, "What do you have in mind?"


"Anything. Maybe something with a good rhythm, something jazzy." Roger got up to search for a record.


"Rubber Soul?" He suggested, trying to remember what they owned, "Perhaps Tommy?"


"Rubber Soul is perfect," Roger agreed. He grabbed it from their stack of records and slipped it on. "I can get down to some sitar.”


"You should get that on a T-shirt, Rog," the guitarist joked, relaxing as the music flowed around them.


Roger laughed softly. "I'll look for one," he mused, sitting back beside Brian to lean on him.


Brian put his head on top of Roger's, savouring the moment of peace and bliss that wasn't likely to last long in their lives. Casually, probably just because it was comfortable, Roger rested a hand on Brian's thigh. There was no intention behind it. It just happened. Brian hummed at the contact, putting his hand on top of Roger's. He shut his eyes for a moment, basking in the warmth that came from the blond. 


Then the door opened.


Roger sighed and sat up a bit. "Is that you, Fred?"


"Hello, darlings!" the front man called from the doorway, coming into the room moments later; "Well isn't this cosy? Budge up." He said, squishing himself between the two on the sofa.


 'So much for peace and quiet' Brian thought.


Roger shook his head a bit. "We were just enjoying some down time. My head's gonna explode from all this study."


Brian nodded in agreement, handing the singer a beer "Where did John end up anyway?"


"Yeah, what did you do with him, Fred?" Roger added, noting the man's absence


"We had dinner at his flat, he said he was tired so just stayed there." The singer blushed slightly before continuing "So what have you kids been up to? Something naughty I hope!"


"Just chillin’ after I studied enough to wanna lay down on the table and let them go at me like a cadaver." Roger grinned and took another sip of his drink.


"Yes, nice imagery there Roger." Brian muttered looking at the clock on the wall. "It's late- I'm gonna head up to bed." he said putting down the empty beer and standing up from the cramped sofa.


"Sleep well then, Bri." Roger waved him off. He'd join him soon enough.


About half an hour later, when Brian was half asleep in bed, he heard his bedroom door open and close. There was some stumbling around and giggling as Roger maneuvered in the dark. The astrophysicist decided to continue pretending to sleep- simply watch the drummer.


Roger hummed a little to himself as he slipped his day clothes off. He tossed them aside and fell back on his bed, playing with his hair a bit as he settled in.


Even in the dark, Brian could just about make out the soft body of the blond. There was something ethereal about it, as he watched the drummer fall into bed half naked on top of the covers.


He was singing softly to himself. "I am so mee." He giggled and rolled over, shaking his head, before passing out.


Brian vaguely recognised the tune as something Freddie had been humming for a few months (in the last few weeks there had been lyrics added, but he didn't think they were the same ones Roger was singing), however- before he could try to remember the proper version sleep took him.




Roger had a headache the next morning. He wasn't super hung over, just hung over enough to whine and beg for someone to please get him food , because he needed the grease. Brian had gotten up earlier than normal, hearing Roger complain about wanting greasy chicken. Leaving to go to the kitchen, Brian made a full English breakfast- still not healthy, but better than fast food. He carried the plates of food and some water towards his and Roger's room, leaving a third in the oven for Freddie.


Roger quietly managed a thank you, starting to pick at different things. Roger was not a breakfast person---he rarely ate before noon, always skipped breakfast and just headed off to school. Today was an exception before he felt like shit. He picked out little bits and pieces.


The guitarist watched as Roger played around with his food, tucking into his own plate; "How're you feeling this morning?" As if he couldn't guess.


"Headache," he replied softly. "Took a few pills."


"Do you want me to go get you anything? You're looking rough as fuck, mate."


Roger managed a light laugh, shaking his head. "A new head, maybe. I'll be fine, Brian, don't worry."


"If you're sure." he said, collecting some clothes for the day before heading towards the bathroom to get changed.


Roger just needed the pills to kick in honestly. He got a bit more of the meal in him and he was ready for the day too. Gathering up his books, he headed off to bio, hopefully to be able to focus. Roger scribbled things out quickly. He usually skated by in luck in the end.