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It was bloody freezing. Brian pulled his coat tighter around himself as he legged it through the woods, looking to his right to find Roger mimicking his movements.
Brian was hoping he would win this little competition so Roger could never live it down and would finally admit that Brian was a faster runner.
Brian could see the lake just a few yards in front and sped up.
As he approached the lake, Brian didn’t stop. If he was actually rationally thinking at that moment instead of his thoughts being clouded with the need to win over his boyfriend, then he would’ve realised it was a stupid idea to have ran into a frozen lake. He looked back and saw that Roger was just approaching so he stood triumphantly on the lake, watching as Roger’s face was taken over with a playful annoyance.
“Well I guess you’re not as fast as you say you are Rog,” Brian chuckled as Roger approached him on the lake.
“Brian first of all, you have longer legs. Second of all, I think we need to get off the lake. I don’t want it to crack,” Roger responded, his eyes pleading for Brian to follow him back to the woods.
Brian stepped towards Roger before he heard a large crack. He snapped his head down to see the ice underneath him cracking.
‘Oh shit’ he thought, before being pushed off the ice.
‘Wait, how was I pushed? Why am I not in the water?” he thought.
He looked back to where he was before, only to see a hole in the ice. And no Roger.
“ROGER!” Brian screamed before carefully but quickly making his way over to the cracked ice.
He stuck his hand in, hoping to find Roger’s hand. After a few minutes, there was nothing, and his hand was starting to go numb from the cold water. He pulled it out before dunking it back in, pushing his arm down further as he lent over the hole.
After a few minutes, he felt something brush his fingertips. And then again.
Brian lowered his arm even further so that even his shoulder was engulfed in the icy water.
What he had been feeling before, he now had a better grip on and realised it must be Roger’s coat. But it was heavy. Which means it was still attached to Roger. Brian heaved with all his strength, but the water was making Roger even heavier, and Brian was struggling, but after thinking if he didn’t get him out soon he could die, Brian had a surge of adrenaline, and yanked Roger out of the water, before grasping him by the shoulders and dragging him back to the side of the lake.
He lay Roger down and caught his breath, before turning to his boyfriend. His boyfriend that wasn’t breathing.
‘Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,’ was repeated through Brian’s head as he started CPR.
“You are not dying on me Roger Taylor. You can’t. We’ve still got so much to do together.”
Brian gave chest compressions and two breaths, receiving nothing.
“Don’t you do this to me Roger,” Brian said as he continued the chest compressions.
Suddenly, Roger’s eyes flew open, as he coughed water out of his lungs. Brian help him roll over slightly so that it was easier for the water to come up. Once Roger had stopped spluttering, Brian rolled him back over before grabbing his hand. It was basically ice, and looking at it, Brian concluded that Roger was in the starting stages of hyperthermia, due to the fact that it was taking on a blue tinge.
“Shit you’re so cold Rog.”
Brian wasted no time in picking up Roger. He was glad Roger wasn’t that heavy, otherwise he doesn’t know how he would’ve gotten him out of there and back to the house. Roger was shivering violently in his arms, his eyes drooping closed as he leant against Brian.
After running all the way back to the house with a dangerously cold Roger cradled in his arms, Brian was met with an alarmed Freddie and John.
“What the hell happened?” Freddie questioned, frantically putting on the fire as John ran around gathering all the blankets and pillows that they own.
“The lake,” was all that Brian was able to gasp out between panting breaths as he placed Roger on a chair.
“You need to get him out of those clothes Brian otherwise he won’t warm up,” John spoke up from where he was placing the pillows and blankets on the sofa.
Brian nodded before carrying Roger to their room. Roger was mostly out of it as Brian undressed him and re-dressed him again, which made it a bit difficult, but Brian was successful, and came back downstairs with Roger dressed in a pair of Brian’s own pyjama bottoms, as they were a lot warmer than Rogers, and one of Roger’s thick hoodies.
He placed him amongst the blankets John had gathered and then sat next to him, placing his head in his lap. He gently carded his fingers through the still damp hair, humming softly.
After a while, Roger’s face started to gain some colour back, and he became more coherent.
“Lets never be that stupid again,” Roger mumbled.
“Agreed,” Brian chuckled, smiling at the blonde in his lap.