Chapter Text
“I think we should break up.”
The relief at finally having said it aloud hit John like a beautiful wave. He really didn't mean to hurt Roger, but it was getting hard to maintain a relationship he truly had no emotional stake in.
He hadn’t meant to lead Roger on, it just sort of happened.
He could hear Roger thinking through the phone. He wasn’t speaking. John hated the idea that he rendered the man mute.
“Rog?” he tried, meekly. Really he had expected Roger to hang up long before he could say anything else and never speak to him again. If he were in Roger’s position, he would likely do the same.
They hadn’t been together for very long by any standards, but Roger had put more than enough work in for both of them in the relationship. That was part of why John had taken so long to end things, it was hard to end things when everything was so nice.
Roger was a considerate boyfriend, it was like getting an upgrade on their already close friendship. John found himself enjoying their dates, the little things Roger would do for him were… nice. John didn’t have to be in love with the man to admit that.
They went on 12 dates in as many weeks, each an improvement on the last. It was like Roger had taken notes on every place John had ever mentioned for even a moment. For their first date, Roger took him to a nice restaurant. Nothing fancy, but it was more than fish and chips, so that made it something. Roger had dressed up nice, it was sweet. They had talked the whole time, not one awkward silence, it was like friends, but closer. Nothing like the horror show John had been expecting, it all flowed.
Even the affection was nice, when John wasn’t worried about being a lying bastard. Roger was sure, but not insistent, and he always asked first, always. It was so much better than anything John had imagined it would be when he agreed to go out with Roger.
Someone deserved Roger’s affection more than he did, that was why this had to happen.
But Roger didn’t hang up. He stayed on the line. John didn’t know what to say next. He had spent all his time forcing it down, that now, now when it would be the acceptable time to reveal his faults. The words wouldn’t come to him, the guilt getting to him. He only felt-
“I’m sorry-” he started, again, not sure how to finish it. What could he say? ‘I’m so very sorry Rog, but I’ve been lying to you. I don’t like you, not like you must like me, and it’s eating me alive. Because I want to love you so badly, I’ve tried, but the feeling just doesn’t fit inside me, not in a way I can explain. It was nothing you did, it’s me. It has always been me.’
He couldn’t say that. If he tried it would sound like an excuse, and Roger deserved more than excuses. Roger deserved to be angry, he deserved to be mad. John waited for it. It didn’t come. He waited for Roger to hang up, but that didn’t happen either.
They stayed like that for what felt like an age. John found himself visualising what Roger must look like on the other end. He had to stop himself when it began to upset him too. Knowing he had hurt Roger was different than visualising it.
“Why?”
Roger's voice was soft and broken, John could hear the tears he was holding back. Too similar to the night John got himself into this mess, not angry—resigned. John didn't know what do with it this time. Not that he ever had known, his last attempt to fix things is what put him here, what caused the problem. John would never blame Roger, but he was beginning to realise now, he had a great weakness for sad Roger. It made him stupid. Because he did care, it just wasn't the romantic sort of care.
“It wasn't anything you did,” he managed, it sounded pathetically cliche even to his own ears.
“Oh, fuck off!”
Roger’s voice cut through the silence, John jumped and nearly threw the phone to the floor in fright even though he had expected it, it still managed to terrify him. Waiting for Roger to be angry, and experiencing it were different things. The drummer wasn’t aggressive in the traditional sense, the blond could be soft as anything, sweet, and polite. But he could get loud, and upset over the smallest things. Somehow, in all his waiting for the anger, John had forgotten it would be Roger who was angry. He wasn’t ready.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, John. Fucking don’t. That isn’t fair.”
It wasn’t fair. Roger was right. John crumbled. He couldn’t keep pretending, Roger deserved this whole mess explained to him.
“It wasn’t anything you did, really. I swear it, It was never anything you did, it was me,” John elaborated, honestly. The most honest he had been yet, this wasn’t Roger’s fault, this was the drawn out and messy aftermath of John’s terrible need not to upset people.
Roger’s scoff echoed through John’s flat, and likely the rest of London too, loud and disbelieving. It rattled through John’s skull, he really wasn’t trying to be cliche, it just sounded that way because he had never expressed these things before.
“N- no, really, this is all my fault, Rog. I- I lied to you.”
“You… lied?”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
If he didn’t now, he never would. Roger deserved the full truth. It would be hard to convince the blond of anything but the truth.
“I-lied-when-I-said-I-also-had-feelings-for-you.”
It came out faster than he intended, likely too fast for Roger to understand over the phone, pouring from him, a torrent of guilt and honesty in equal measure.
“What?” Roger asked.
“I lied, when I said I felt the same way. I wasn’t telling the truth.”
“Oh….Why?”
John had a choice, he could lie, sugar-coat his answer, but that felt like leading Roger on, and that was what got John to this point in the first place, trying to sugarcoat something to placate the drummer. He had to be truthful.
“I didn’t want you to be upset.”
“So you—you lied to me, for months because you didn’t want to… upset me?”
“Yes.”
“So you don’t—god how do I ask this?—you don’t want to be with me, because you don’t feel anything for me?”
John hadn’t expected Roger to understand so plainly after so little conversation. Hearing it said back to him, he felt like such an arse.
“…Yes?”
“You went on 7 dates with me, you let me take you places, buy you things, treat you like my boyfriend, and you felt nothing the whole time.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I don’t see any reason to continue this conversation, then. I could hardly convince you to give me another shot, when I never had a shot in the first place. Have a nice afternoon, Deacy.”
Roger hadn’t made contact once, even a month after the phone call. John didn’t stop him, didn’t reach out. He deserved it and more for how much of an arse he had been to Roger. Breaking up with the blond by explaining it was all a lie, and doing it over the phone like a coward. Besides, with his record, he’d only make it worse, he was good at that.
It was quiet without Roger to fill his days though, John found himself filling his time with course work, and while John was passionate about his work, there was only so much he could take without winding down, but he couldn’t wind down properly. He felt too guilty to go out by himself, and it was more than clear Roger wasn’t coming back. No one would come back to a man who revealed he was incapable of loving.
Brian and Freddie were keeping their distance, they still talked, or saw each other on occasion, but it was terribly difficult to do when Roger was a mutual friend. Nine times out of ten John would ask Freddie to go for drinks, and he would respond something along the lines of ‘sorry Deaky, dear. Rog and I are going for drinks.’ John couldn’t let it upset him, he could only imagine how hard it was for Brian and Freddie to remain impartial. When Roger broke the news to them, John had half expected them to look for a new bassist. One with less of a history with their drummer. John would be forever thankful for the fact they refused to let him go.
There were days where he debated leaving anyway. They weren’t playing while Roger refused to see him, gigs, songwriting, and band activity was on a hiatus. John didn’t want to be the reason they stopped, the reason Queen stopped. That wasn’t fair to them.
He was so screwed.