Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You had been called to work one day to find out that you were operating the cameras for the new Queen music video. Ecstatic, you had immediately cleared your schedule for that day, apologising to your friend for cancelling on the movie you had planned to go see together. They had understood completely - “like c'mon, a cameraman. For Queen! I can wait!” - and had even asked to get an autograph for them if you got the chance.

Today was the day of the shoot. Beyond nervous, you walked onto the set. The band was currently in makeup - you could hear their laughter and Freddie proposing that he looked the best, which was met with a ruckus of voices probably disagreeing, you couldn’t quite catch it. You had been told that the band was going to be in drag, you were eager to see how they looked. It was going to be one hell of a story to tell your friends.

Meeting up with your superior, she ran you through what would happen during the shoot, where you’d be positioned, where the band members would be situated, so on and so forth.

You had been checking the settings on your camera when the band members showed up. First, Freddie, flaunting his long hair and walking with a bounce. Next was John and Brian, walking shyly behind Freddie, obviously slightly uncomfortable in drag. Finally, the drummer emerged. He took your breath away, walking slowly towards his seat. Time seemed to slow as you took him in. You trailed your eyes up his body. Admiring how well the school girl outfit suited him, your gaze swept up his legs and his skirt, moving from his hips up to his bouncing hair. Eventually, your gaze landed on his face, and your eyes locked. He had been watching you check him out. Blushing profusely you looked away quickly, but you saw the beginning of a… smirk? You glanced back to check, knowing you must be wrong. But as your gaze flicked back to his face he was watching you, chin raised in contemplation. He looked you over before raising his eyebrows at you, smirking wider, running his tongue slowly over his bottom lip. Face hot, obviously flushed, you looked away and reluctantly concentrated on your job.

There are moments through the day, where his eyes flick over to you, watching you work. For the majority of the time, you never noticed because you had been doing your job. But in between a take, you caught him. As you looked over to him, locking eye contact, he broke out into the most mischievous grin you have ever seen. Smiling back at him you breathed out a laugh as you regained your concentration. You heard him laugh softly.

It was lunchtime and everyone had stepped away from what they were doing to have a break, something to eat and drink. You were over by the water, filling up a plastic cup and downing it in one go when you felt a hand slip something into your pocket. You looked around and saw Roger walking away from you, mesmerised by his skirt swaying gently as he walked with purpose, with confidence.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a napkin with a few words messily scrawled on it.

Come find me after?

Rog.

You tilted your head in surprise and looked back over your shoulder to see Roger talking with the band's guitarist, Brian May. Brian glanced at you before quickly returning his attention to Roger.

Subtle, you thought, smiling softly.

The director signalled for everyone to get back into position after a while and you walked back to the camera. Roger passed you, bumping your hip with his softly. He looked at you as he passed, a genuine smile on his face.

The remainder of the shoot went without a hitch. In all honesty, it shouldn’t have taken this long, but the band, mainly Freddie, wanted to make it perfect considering it was going to be shown on televisions all over the globe. It’s fair enough, you thought.

After shutting off your camera and packing it away safely in a designated crate, you recalled the note Roger had slipped you. You checked quickly with your superior that everything had been completed and you were free to go. She confirmed and you set off to find Roger, not even considering turning down his offer.

Having watched them leave, you followed the same route they took. You found yourself face to face with a door labelled “QUEEN”. A change room perhaps?

You didn’t have long to decided whether or not to knock before the door swung open, Freddie Mercury himself, shirtless yet still in the skirt and stockings, leaning against the door frame.

He grinned, “Ah, it’s you, fucking finally.”

You felt confused, had Roger been talking about you? But once again before you could get any words out Freddie began talking.

“You just missed him. Rog went to go find where he put his cigarettes.” Unbelievably, his grin widened, “Honestly, I think he’s just making this difficult for you.”

“Which way did he go?” You finally muttered, finding your voice at last.

Freddie pointed further down the hall and you thanked him before setting off. You heard some laughter coming from the room as the door shut with a click.

A bit further down the hall you noticed light shining out of the crack of a door. Could this be him? You peered in quietly.

Roger was leaning against the sink in the men’s bathroom, holding a lighter in one hand, a smouldering cigarette hanging from his lip. As his eyes rose, lazily sweeping over your body, he slowly breathed out a cloud of smoke. He watched you through his lashes, lip curling up into a smile.

Stepping away from the counter he swayed his hips as he neared you, skirt bouncing as he did so. His schoolgirl tie was undone and lazily hung from his neck. The white button-up contradicted its name and was almost entirely unbuttoned. To say the least, he looked good.

“So you came?” He muttered in that sweet voice of his.

“It was too good of an offer.” You smiled softly at him, unsure of what to do now.

Just by watching him you could tell he was acting differently than he usually acts. He seemed… nervous? Yet he smiled and breathed out a laugh at your response.

“Glad you thought that, I’m glad you came, I was worried you wouldn’t.” He moved yet closer, into your personal space.

You got caught in the depths of his blue eyes. Your skin tingled as his hand came to rest on your shoulder, slowly moving up to cup your cheek. He searched your expression as he began to lean in.

You were surprised when he paused, mere centimetres away. “Are you okay with this?” He whispered so quietly, you weren’t sure you even heard him, yet you nodded, moving one hand tentatively to his waist.

Finally, his lips grazed against yours and your eyes fluttered shut right before the kiss began.

His lips were soft and it felt amazing. Damn him. You may have secretly hoped he was bad at something. Breathing in each other you felt connected, if only for a moment. Your hand found its way to the back of his neck.

It was just a short kiss, hardly enough. It kept you wanting more, but maybe that was his plan. He pulled away and smiled at you, looking directly into your eyes. You were breathless. His thumb swiped at your lip as he wiped away the lipstick he had left on you.

Eventually, he stepped out of your personal space, smiling as if he had just won the lottery.

Without warning he slipped another piece of paper into your breast pocket of your button-up.

Leaning into your ear he whispered, “Call me.” Before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek and exiting the room.

Following quickly you stood at the doorframe watching him leave.

His skirt swayed with his hips and his hair bounced. You pulled the slip of paper out and looked at it in the light of the bathroom. It had his personal number, his name and a lipstick stain next to it. You had come here hoping to get an autograph for your friend, you had gotten so much more.

Chapter Text

When you had come home the night, you had been in a state of shock after the events of that day. You stared at the paper with Roger's personal number on it for a long while. You memorised the numbers and admired his handwriting. Though messy it was quite charming. You hadn't even realised you were smiling but then your jaw started aching. Setting the paper down on your bedside table you put your phone on top of it.
Going to sleep that night was tough. Your mind kept going back to that kiss. How his soft lips fit so well against yours. How his fingers tangled in the short hairs at the nape of your neck. How the fabric of his shirt felt between your fingers as you bunched it up and pulled him closer, desperate for more. It took your breath away and you ran your fingers through your hair. Sighing deeply you continued to stare at the dark ceiling above you. Heart aching for a man you might never be able to call yours, slumber finally took hold and dragged you into the depths of unconsciousness.

You had woken up late the next day. Midday was only an hour away when you rolled over and squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. Your head was fuzzy as you recalled yesterday, half convinced it was just a really good dream. Going to grab your phone, you were greeted with the slip of paper. A smile found its way onto your lips and it was refreshing in an odd way.
Opening your contacts you saved Roger's number, once again taking a moment to admire his handwriting. You had almost called him then and there, desperate for his voice in your ear, for him to be in front of you again, for his lips to be on you again. For his touch.
You were drunk on love, or was it lust?

It took all of your willpower to continue about your day. You had errands to run. You had to do some jobs around the house — laundry, dishes, etc — before you had to get your car serviced (something had started rattling and it didn't sound good but you had no idea what it was so it was best to get an expert to look at it) and go to the grocery store to do the weekly shopping.
Once you got going, it was easier to busy yourself and let the day pass quickly.
You had received a horribly worded text from your friend, Abi — the one you had cancelled your plans with to do the Queen shoot. To summarise it was button mashing if asking how it was and wondering if you had ended up getting the autographs for her. You told her that you hadn't managed to get one because you were a tad... "distracted" by the drummer. She had immediately arranged to meet up at a coffee shop tomorrow to get full, in depth details (the words 'in depth' worried you).
It seemed like hardly any time had passed when you realised the sun was starting to set.
The entire drive home from the grocery store you had to force yourself to not thing back to Roger. It was hard, too hard for someone that you mightn't ever hear from again. You felt as if your phone was burning a hole in your pocket, taunting you.
"I can live without him! I've been doing it this entire time! Why is he stuck in my head!" You felt the steering wheel beneath your tight grip, your knuckles going white. "I don't need him!"
As much as you tried to convince yourself, to get back to reality, as if yesterday was in fact just a great dream, you still had the urge to call him.

Carrying in as many bags in at once as you could, you grunted as you heaved the grocery bags up onto the counter. You began to pack them away, flicking on the news for background noise as you worked.
"Fans of Queen will be excited to hear that the famous rock band has just filmed another hit music video. A fan says they saw the band exiting the studio, all looking quite pleased with themselves..." the news anchor continues talking and images fade in and out across the screen.
You have the pantry open, a can of spaghetti in your hand. You're midway through putting it back when you get distracted by the television. Watching as a small video plays, recorded by an anonymous fan, you feel your breath catch in your throat.
Putting the spaghetti down slowly, you walked, almost as if in a daze, towards the couch which you stood behind.
Roger and the band were walking towards a cab they had called. Freddie was all over Roger,  talking feverishly and Roger was going red and laughing nervously.
You smiled, hoping it was you that had that caused the red blush that spread across his cheeks.
Taking a deep breath you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Your thumb hovered over the call button on Roger's contact. You scrunched up your face unsure if you should actually go through with this. You found yourself walking into your room and sitting on the end of your bed.
You hit the button with confidence but the moment the screen changed and you saw it was ringing you panicked and held it to your ear. Your heart was in your throat as the phone rang.
You were certain that he wouldn't answer when the phone rang for the forth time. That's why it shocked you when you heard his voice.
"Hello, Roger here."
You were silent for a moment, not having planned past this moment. "Hello?"
"Hey Roger it's y/n. We uh- We met at the shoot last night..." you were nervous and very quiet, leaving you unsure that he even heard you.
"Oh! Hey! I was wondering if you were going to call." His voice was filled with excitement despite sounding dead tired only moments before.
"Yeah, sorry I was busy..." you fibbed, trying to act cool, making sure you weren't speaking too fast; trying to act as if you hadn't been thinking of him the entire day.
"That's fine! I'm just happy you called." He sounded relieved and his voice was soft. It made you wonder if he had been waiting for you to call. "What have you been up to?"
You found it quite funny that he was trying to have a normal conversation with you despite being a world famous rock star.
"I had to do a few things today, shopping, washing, y'know. I'm sure you've done something interesting though?" You're speaking quickened but you somehow managed to not sound too desperate.
"I was doing more recording in the studio with the boys, we've got some nice music coming along! Actually I have Deacy here right now, say hi Deacy!" You heard a quiet and confused 'hello!' yelled from across the room and it warmed your heart.
"Tell him I said hi back!" Roger relayed your greetings and he laughed as John wondered who he was talking to,
"Hey, uh.." he cleared his throat nervously, "listen I'm free this weekend if you want to meet up? Maybe get a bite to eat?" He suggested and you had to restrain yourself from cutting him off.
"Of course, I would love to! If you have a time and a place, I'll meet you there!" You could hardly contain your excitement. Roger Taylor was asking you to meet up with him!
He answered quickly, replying with a place he obviously already had in mind.
He had suggested a quiet, "hole-in-the-wall" café that was more or less between where the two of you lived. Neutral ground, a good idea.
You messily wrote it down on a notepad you had found. You were smiling into the phone when you told him that you got it and you would be there.
You heard Roger cover the phone with one hand, someone — presumably John — was chatting with him. Patiently waiting, a grin formed on your face as it set in that you were going to meet up with Roger Taylor.
"Hey, I'm back but I'm sorry I have to run. I'll call you, yeah?"
"Yeah, that would be great!" You began to sigh lovingly into the phone before abruptly stopping yourself, hoping that he didn't hear it.
He breathed out a laugh and you felt your face get hot with embarrassment. "Well, talk to you later then!"
"Talk to you later..." You confirmed, smiling and awkwardly hung up.
Tossing the phone to the other side of the bed you groaned loudly and fell onto your back, running your fingers instinctively through your hair.
"So, that just happened..." You found yourself muttering in disbelief.
Despite the nervousness, the tightness in your chest and the odd feeling you had in your stomach after talking to a rock star like you had been friends for years, you were excited. You were very excited!
Going to sleep that night was tough, but for different reasons. You excitedly awaited the weekend.