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The ballad of Freddie Mercury and Roger Taylor is a long and confusing one, to say the least. Most of the time, they insult, tease, and downright irritate the rest of the band with their usually wacky ideas. They party, they drink, they shag, this is what they do. However, pacing the room on a Saturday morning trying your hardest not to cry is not one of them.
"𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤, 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳," Roger mutters, raking his fingers through his messy hair, further dishevelling it. Staring at the bruises littered across his chest in horror, he cups a hand to his mouth and sobs softly. Picturing his bandmate sleeping across the hallway, a grin on his beautiful face, Roger only sobs louder. He's harboured a crush on Freddie over the years that they spent together, and 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, this is the supposed pinnacle of their relationship. Their insulting, their stupid ideas, this is all some sort of cat-and-mouse game to see who will confess first and he doesn't want to know what happens next. Letting out a shaky breath, he puts on his shirt and goes to a nearby pub. Call it cowardice, but it's either that or getting hurt.
!!
"Darlings, let's get to work! We've got a tour coming up, and we need to show them how legendary we really are."
Roger sits at his spot and starts drumming. He tries, he really does, but every time he sees Freddie saunter around the studio in lissome movements, he feels nervous. Freddie's soul is exposed as he's singing, and god, it's ineffable. His mellifluous words keep flowing, and Roger's just breathless. How can one be so godly, yet so human? He hopes that what happened the last time was just a one night stand and nothing more, but his fluttering heart isn't so sure about that.
(Roger leaves as soon as Freddie says that practice is over. He doesn't show up until the following week.)
!!
Queen is in the midst of recording on Ridge Farm, and Roger is pissed off that Prenter decided to accompany them. "Everyone knows that nefarious son of a bitch wants to get into Freddie's pants," he mentions one night over dinner.
"Ooh, big word. You should use it for our next Scrabble game."
"Shut up, Brian." Roger chucks a pillow at him, narrowly missing his head. Brian raises his eyebrow.
"Face it, Roger, you've been ogling him for years. Just tell him already!"
"But what if he doesn't like me that way? What if he wants us to just be friends?" asks Roger, panic seeping in his voice.
"Aha, so you do like him that way!" Brian grins triumphantly, fist pumping the air.
"N-no, I don't!" splutters Roger, blushing furiously.
"You just confessed it, you can't take it back now," Brian singsongs mischievously. "Besides, it was bound to happen. You two are a pair of Siamese twins."
"Piss off Bri," he glares at him, Brian knowing full well that he's not really mad at him.
"What's going on guys?" asks Deaky, setting his plate down on the table.
"Roger here has finally confessed to liking Fred," says a smug Brian, earning a shove from Roger. "He also said that he wants to marry him and carry his-"
"What took you so long, Roger?" asks Deaky, laughing at a groaning Brian and an embarrassed Roger. He's never going to let this down.
!!
He wants to say that whatever he and Freddie have is ephemeral, but it's not. They have a deep connection, a connection that not even Brian can decipher. It's always been there, ever since their misadventures at Kensington, to when they were still Smile, to when they first met. Their chaos tears them apart, but it keeps bringing them back to each other with the same passion and energy. Call it limerance or simply foolish thinking, but they have something. He just wishes he can act on it.
!!
"Darling, are you alright?"
Startled, Roger turns around, feeling a sharp pain in his neck as he does so. "Ah, fuck! I turned around too hard!"
Freddie shakes his head lovingly. "I swear, you are going to be the death of me, darling. I'll get you some ice and you lie down. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone!" he calls out as he runs to the kitchen.
"𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦," Roger mumbles, as he shuffles about on the couch to make himself comfortable. "𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦."
"Here you go, dear. I do hope you're feeling alright." exclaims Freddie as he fusses over him.
Roger sits up or at least tries to. "What do you mean by that, Fred?"
"Well, you've been feeling out of it lately. I know that working on the album can be stressful, but you've been quiet, you're moody, and not your kind of moody, and you've generally not been yourself! Brian keeps telling me that it's your ridiculous car song not being on the album, but I know it's more than just that. So tell me, what is it that's been on your mind as of now?"
"Ah, so we're playing therapist now? Kinky."
"Just answer the bloody question, Rog."
"Okay," says Roger, putting his hands up as a sign of defeat. "Remember that time when you came to my place all badly bruised because you were jumped by some homophobes?" Freddie nods silently. "And that I allowed you to spend the week until you felt safe?" He nods again. "Well, it was the time I felt like I wanted to protect you. Protect you from the atrocities of the world, to keep you here with me forever. And I didn't know what to do about it. That was, until the time we, we-"
"What did we do, Roger?" asks Freddie, his voice barely a whisper.
"We fucked, Fred." his voice cracks now, but he doesn't care. "We had sex, two years ago. I didn't want to tell you because I liked our dynamic, and I didn't want it ruined because of a stupid crush."
Freddie doesn't say anything for a while, taking in all this information. "Well dear, I would call you blind, but that would be an insult to the blind."
Really? He confesses his feelings and all he gets is another insult. "Why you bastard! I confess my innermost desires, and you slander me! I'll get you, I sure will-"
Freddie's now laughing at him, tears forming in his eyes. "You know Rog, despite you being a biologist, you can be pretty stupid."
"Wait, what do you-" and then he's hit by an epiphany. The looks, the touches, the reason why he bothered ringing up Roger in the first place. He felt the same way. He always had, but he was too wrapped up in his emotions to even notice.
"Now do you understand, darling?" asks Freddie, his voice suddenly husky. Roger gulps in response.
"Yes, Fred." he squeaks, before he crashes their mouths together.
!!
"Look who finally got together!"
"Shut up, you old sod." grumbles Roger, hitting Deaky's shoulder as he passes him by. John can only chuckle in response.
"Well, I'll never! Our own bandmates were plotting our get-together! Oh, the betrayal!" howls Freddie, clutching to Brian for support.
"Sometimes, I wonder why I'm in this band." he murmurs to himself, getting more toast for the newcomers.
As they all laugh at the breakfast table, Roger thinks about their ballad now. It's still long and confusing, but it has pulchritude and meaning to it, conflating to become something better. He's not sure, whether this will develop into something more, or whether this will be some dalliance when they'll both part ways, but he's willing to try, as long as Freddie is there with him as he does. And if Prenter gets pissed off, it's worth it.