Archive of Our Own

Roger Taylor knew he had a lot to offer a person.

For one, he was gorgeous. Annoying so. He knew people were jealous of him; men and woman alike. How could they not be? He had a bright smile, beautiful eyes, and sunny blond hair. He was a picture-perfect male. Truly a gift from the Gods.

He was also talented. He could play the guitar and drums and even a bit of the piano. He had the voice of an angel and could come up with the most unique ideas for songs.

And on top of all that, he was funny, clever, cunning. He was a good friend, a thoughtful son. Loving brother, doting flatmate and probably the best coworker the people at the market could ask for.

So why in all the bloody hell was he single?

Now don’t get him wrong. Partially, it was his own choice to be single. None of the people in his university stood out of him by much. Sure some were as lovely as himself but that was all superficial garbage. Roger could easily come off as self-centered and dim-witted but he enjoyed a good conversation as much as he liked having someone pretty on his arm.

He didn’t want to settle for just anybody. If he was to be in a relationship, he wanted it to matter.  He wanted to look forward to seeing and being with that person day in and day out; wanted to talk about things aside from the usual small talk one would make on a date or the casual flirting. He wanted someone that didn’t look at him and think he was just another pretty airhead.

Perhaps he was asking too much?

No. No! Roger knew he wasn’t asking too much because it seemed he wasn’t asking enough! He was settling on settling with someone that could keep his attention for more than five minutes. How utterly pathetic is that?

Now Roger didn’t like to think of himself as pathetic, but rather a hopeless romantic that just hadn’t found anyone to be hopeless about.

Until now it seemed.

Roger didn’t get crushed easily. He was used to people having a crush on him, for obvious reasons (look above) but low and behold, there he was.

John was an electrical engineering student. Utterly beautiful without even realizing it and sharp as a whip. He was quiet which at first Roger thought equaled annoyance or disdain but it seemed the young man just had more on his mind and didn’t want to speak on silly things.

Problem was, Roger tended to be very silly. He didn’t try to be. He could be serious if the moment called for it but why would anyone want to do that when you could just live free and have a blast?

He had met John through tutoring hours on campus. It just so happens he and three other fellows had an hour to spare and would occasionally show up to the tutoring hall. Roger didn’t need the help but he was bored and had the time to use. He would scope out the place for anybody interested in help with biology, both literally and figuratively.

The first person he met was Brian, which wasn’t surprising since the man was an utter genius. He was studying astrophysics and broke his time up between writing incredibly long thesis papers for those willing to pay the price or tutoring any poor soul that didn’t understand science or maths.

The second was already someone Roger knew as they were both flatmates and worked at the market together. They worked in the same booth and had become fast friends. Freddie was a design student who had to keep his grades up or else his parents wouldn’t continue to pay his tuition. He was a bright man, but having some help could never hurt.

And then there was John. Sweet, beautiful John that didn’t need tutoring himself but thought he could be helpful to those around him. He was good at maths and numbers in general. He could also assist in history or music, as he was apart of the schools marching band.

John and Brian took school very seriously and always tried to use their free hour to be protective, while Roger and Freddie were just there for a bit of conversation. The first week together had been rather stressful. Personalities clashing and Brian snapping at the latter two that if they didn’t need the space they should spend their free hour somewhere else.

Freddie was able to calm him down some and now the four of them treated the time as an annual hangout. Sure, sometimes one would break away to help someone who needed it or would try to get a study in but most of the time it was just them sitting at the table, chatting about life and eating whatever lunch they decided to bring that day.

Now, Roger did not fall for people often. Sure, his personality was bright and bubbly. He was similar to a golden retriever that if you were willing to talk nicely to him and give him a pet, chances were he would be your best mate. However, when it came to caring about someone on multiple levels, Roger was a bit choosey.

Sleeping with someone was easy. All they had to do was maintain his attention long enough for his cock to get hard and he was good to go, but finding someone that spoke to him on an emotional level was far harder.

Until John that is.

He was . . . everything. He was smart and cunning and creative. He was so bright and so talented. He only spoke when he wanted to, but when he did want to he could go on for hours about the things he was passionate about.

He took Roger seriously, which was so incredibly rare that Roger didn’t know what to make of it at first. There was a time when Fred was homesick and Brian volunteered to tutor some girl in science in hopes of getting a date out of it, leaving John and Roger on their own for the entire hour.

John kept pressing Roger to talk to him about something — anything. Roger didn’t know what to say, as he didn’t find himself worthy of entertaining John with his words. But he talked about his life and his job and what he wanted to do with himself after university. John listened to him and seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say.

Truth was, Roger didn’t think of himself as interesting. Sure, he was beautiful and was musically inclined, but that was where it all ended. He could talk himself up to professors and parents of the girls he took out, but to a potential love interest, all he could offer was a talented tongue and strong hands.

Easy to say, Roger was head over heels for John halfway through the semester.

And he had no idea what to do about it. Not like he could just ask the guy out. They were mates! What if John wasn’t into him like that? Then the whole dynamic would be ruined and Roger wasn’t going to risk that.

He tried to seek him out, find out what it was that John was into. Freddie was a large help thanks to how blunt he was. He had no problem calling Brian out on his sluttiness, which Brian was pretty open with. He liked pretty girls with pretty minds and had no problem admitting that.

Roger was just about the same, admitting that he liked to be with people, though he tried to insist that he wouldn’t be opposed to being locked down if the proper person came along.

Finally, Freddie, that beautiful angel passed the question onto John who just shrugged it off. “Surely a man as lovely as you have someone to hold at night?”

It wouldn’t surprise Roger if John had a relationship already. He was a private person and while he had gradually opened up to the group over the weeks of being together that didn’t mean there still weren’t things they had yet to learn about the man. Roger wanted to know everything could about him, but he also didn’t want to pry. He wanted John to tell him in his way, in his own time.

“Well?” Freddie pressed, poking John’s should playfully. “Come on. Tell us about your love life,”

“Not much to tell,” John muttered, looking up from his book. He shrugged his shoulders, looking to shy and small despite being the second tallest of them all. “Had a girlfriend back in primary. Went on a few dates with a bloke in college, but never amounted to anything.”

This piqued Roger’s interest to the highest degree and he shifted in his seat, trying to make it seem like he was just uncomfortable in the plastic chairs they were sitting on.

“If you’re looking for some fun you could always go out with Meddows,” Freddie mentioned, causing those baby blues to widen. “I’m sure he can set you up with someone nice and polite.”

Roger laughed then and while he was sure it came out sounding forced, he played it off as fine.

“Not looking to be set up really,” John mentioned, sounding almost apologetic. “I’m too busy for a relationship.”

“Oh, come now. Everyone can make room for a bit of fun. Even Brian here,” Freddie gestured to Brian, who just shook his head and kept his nose pressed deep in his book about Pluto. “I work and go to school but I still manage to take Mary out to somewhere nice. Roger here spends his days flirting with every bird that walks into the shops.”

“I flirt to sell the pieces. I never go home with any of them.” Roger admitted, sending a small look to John so he would know that he was being serious.

Sure, he had taken out a girl or two that had bought something from him and once he even accepted a date from a guy willing to pay twice the asking price for a jacket if he agreed to have a drink with him. But he wasn’t going to go out with every person that batted their lashes at him. He hadn’t done that in weeks now. How could he be too busy lying awake in his bed thinking of that gorgeous electrical engineering student that he saw nearly every single day?

“I don’t know. It seems all the people I’ve interacted with don’t have much going for them.” John confessed somberly. “They sit around on campus or go to pubs after work. They have nothing going for them.”

“Perhaps you should go after a professor?” Brian joked. “They won’t have time for you either, but at least you’ll get a high grade.”

“Maybe I am asking too much? I’m already so busy. School and the band. Tutoring here and part-time music shop. I’m hoping to go for my masters soon.”

“You’re a busy man. You should find someone up to par with you, darling and you can make time together.” Freddie insisted.

“I just don’t want to bore myself with someone who isn’t going anywhere. I want someone with ambition. Someone who isn’t just . . . skating through life.”

“Bravo, Deacy! Surely there is someone out there for you.” Freddie mentioned, dropping the conversation as a particular beauty student walked through the door.

Despite being in his relationship Freddie had found himself rather smitten with the young man and had invited him to come to the tutoring session for some extra help in a way to spend time with him. He hadn’t done anything, as he would never break Mary’s trust, but it was obvious he was very fond of the man.

So the group let the conversation go; Freddie went off to help Jim with his latest paper and the other two busied themselves with their studies. And Roger just sunk into his seat, wallowing in his self-pity.

It was one thing to not be interested in a person but to find them not worthy because they weren’t doing anything with their life was just a new level of terrible. Roger thought that he had a chance because he was gorgeous and could make John smile but now he was starting to realize just how utterly pathetic he was.

Sure, he worked and had his flat (with Freddie of all people), but aside from that, he didn’t do much. He went out to discos and pubs. He hung around campus and spent his money on clothes he did not need. He came to University intending to be a dentist but dropped that within the first year because he just hated the work. Now he was stringing along for a biology degree and was finally realizing he had nothing to offer anybody.

That was by far the worst day of Roger’s life up to that point.

“I think you’re being a bit dramatic, darling,” Freddie mentioned afterRoger opened his heart to him.

The brunet had been somewhat aware of the crush that Roger had developed on their friend, but he had no idea how much he adored the man. How every single moment of the day was spent thinking about John and how all he wanted to do was prove that he wasn’t some lump sitting around waiting for life to happen to him.

Roger was lying on his bed. Well, practically. More like hanging off of it with his long blond hair hanging over the edge as he dangled.

“What am I supposed to do, Fred?”

“You could always ask Deacy what he thinks,” Freddie suggested like it wasn’t the worst idea on history.

“Oh yeah, lemme be open about how pathetic I am.”

Freddie scoffed, looking back to the mirror. “You’re not pathetic, Roger. You’re just a regular bloke who hasn’t put his whole heart into something and wants to put his whole something else into someone else.”

“Can you not joke about this? I’m bloody heartbroken right now! Owe!” Roger jumped as Freddie threw his hairbrush at him. “Stop it!”

“Look at yourself! Pining over him like a teenage girl.”

“That is sexist. Feminism is on the rise, you know.”

“Shut up and tell John how you feel.” Freddie insisted.

“I can’t just do that!” Roger fired back, sitting up properly on Freddie’s bed.

“Well, I don’t know what else to say, Meddows,” Freddie announced, his hands falling to his hips in defeat. “Join a club or something. Add activities into your day and perhaps he’ll feel differently?”

Roger had never been interested in joining any clubs on campus, but he had to admit that Freddie had a point. Surely there had to be one that was worth his time. He scouted out Brian, who took him around the student union so they could case out the place and find a club that didn’t seem like a waste of time.

Nothing caught his attention, at least right away. He wasn’t good enough to write for the magazine and wasn’t smart enough to be on the chess team. He didn’t want to be apart of the government club for obvious reasons and Brian gave him a hardcore no when he suggested joining the astrology club.

“The marching band already has a drummer, otherwise I’d suggest that,” Brian mentioned as they sat together, eating their sandwiches as Roger fell back into his slump.

It would have been wonderful, being in the band with John, but he knew the drummer and knew the bloke wouldn’t give up his spot that easily. Roger thought about possibly doing something terrible, but knew that winning over John through illegal activity wasn’t the way to go.

So instead he admitted defeat, called himself a failure, and accepted that he would be alone forever.

That was until Brian used that big brain of his and suggested something so insane that it might just work. “Could always join the rugby team.”

Roger’s head cocked slightly and he turned to face the poofy haired man. “What?”

“The rugby team. You could join. Sports count as activities.”

Sports did count as activities. Sports were for people with high grades and good skills. People who used their time wisely. Who wouldn’t want to date someone who did sports?

Roger’s blue eyes brightened and he took off running, leaving Brian behind him alone in the quad with their lunch. He ran to the other side of campus, jumping the fence to get to the playing field where the team was currently practicing.

“Good lord. Where’s the fire?” The rugby coach asked, watching as Roger approached.

The blond bent forward, holding a finger up to pause the man so he could catch his breath. “Coach Beach,” Roger gasp, groaning quietly. He was slim and fast, but he had never run that fast for that long. His body wasn’t used to the sudden change and for a small moment, he thought that perhaps now would be a good time to stop smoking.

“Mr. Taylor.”

Roger stood straight, offering a smile. “I would like to join the rugby team.”

Coach Beach raised a brow to Roger, allowing his words to fully process before laughing it off. “Funny, Taylor.”

“What? No, Coach, I’m serious.” Roger moved forward, blocking the older man from leaving. “I want to join. I’ve always liked the sport and thought I’d be good at it.”

“Do you have to earn credits or something? Being on the team won’t help you graduate, Mr. Taylor.”

“I’m a biology student, why would I need a sport to graduate?” Roger shook his head, his hands falling to his hips. “Look, just give me a chance and I’ll prove to you that I’m good enough.”

Coach Beach paused for a moment, watching the blond with a worried glance before sighing in defeat. “All right. Let’s see what you got, eh? And take those sunglasses off.”

With a swift nod, Roger tossed his tinted sunglasses away and hurried onto the field with the other guys. He stuck out like a sore thumb with his waving and colorful clothing, which completely clashed with the dark uniform the players had to wear.

Coach Beach shouted things that Roger didn’t understand but he got into position anyway. He had played the sport back when he was just a kid, so he knew the gist of it. He could run well enough and catch without issue, but it was the slamming of the bodies that (quite literally) threw Roger for a loop.

He had played for less than a minute when he was tackled down, pinned to the dirt and the grass with the wind knocked out of him. He stayed there, dazed and confused until Coach Beach blew his whistle and the players went off, leaving Roger alone on the field, still trying to gather his bearings.

“You’re a thin lad. Perhaps you have some upper arm strength, but aside from that, nearly snapped like a twig the moment the tackle came through.” Coach Beach commented softly from above. “Perhaps another sport would be better sorted. Good luck, Taylor.” Turning on his heel, Coach Beach left the field, leaving Roger laying there.

The blond didn’t want to move a single inch, inclining to instead stay right there, laying with the sun blurring out his already terrible eyesight. He thought of staying there for all eternity until someone approached, blocking out the harsh light.

“Meddows?” A soft voice said aloud and Roger opened his eyes and lifted his head, squinting until he caught sight of who was speaking to him.

“Oh. Hello Dominique.”

“What are you doing on the ground?” She asked curiously. She looked up to the rest of the team, pausing when she put two and two together. “Were you playing rugby?”

“I made a decent attempt for it.” Roger groaned, shifting on the grass.

The brunette sighed, taking obvious pity on him and reached down to take his hand, pulling him to his feet. “Come on. Let's get you out of here before they use you as a tackling guard.”

Scooping up his sunglasses, Roger followed Dominique off the field and off to the bleachers where, upon being asked why he would ever bother to try out for a team, poured his heart out to her. He had Dominique had a history together, quite literally and figuratively. They had met their first year at college and had gone steady before Roger messed it all up because for reasons X, Y, and Z.

They had stayed friends more or less, with Roger flirting with her endlessly, though she never batted an eye to it. Dominique had always seen right through him and even to this day, Roger knew she was too good for him.

“You’re doing all of this for a guy?”

“Don’t make fun of me, Dom. My self-esteem can’t take any more hits. Literally.” Roger ran a gentle hand up and down his chest, trying to soothe himself. He was getting all worked up over this and couldn’t help but to feel even more pathetic. The last thing he needed was his ex-girlfriend to point out how utterly stupid it all was.

“Why don’t you just talk to the bloke and ask him out?”

“I told you. He wants to be with someone serious. I thought . . . the band goes to support the rugby team. It would be poetic or whatever . . . a player and a band member getting it on . . . I know it’s stupid, all right? I just want to be near him and for him to not think I am some lazy loser who isn’t going places. All right, I am going places, Dom! I’m going to do something with my life. Just not right at this second.”

“I have never seen you put in this much effort to impress someone,” Dominique confessed. “You must like him, don’t you?”

What was Roger supposed to do? He thought about brushing it off and pretending as none of it mattered, but he would be lying and Roger Taylor didn’t lie, especially not to his friends. So he just bobbed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so hopelessly in love with John it wasn’t even laughable, no matter how pathetic it came off.

Dominique sighed beside him and Roger, for a small moment, thought she was going to get up and leave him to wallow in his pity alone, but instead she stayed by his side and said something he didn’t expect.

“Meddows,” She began using the colorful moniker that he had been given himself his first week of school. “I want to offer you something that might pique your interest.”

Out of every possible outcome, she could have said, joining the cheer squad wasn’t one of them. Dominique was the captain and had been on the team since her first year of university. Roger remembered sitting back on the bleachers and smoking with a couple of the other boyfriends, licking his lips and watching as she and the other girls jumped around in those short skirts and ponytails.

He remembered sliding his hand up that skirt on Friday nights after a game and remembered doing the same thing to an old college girlfriend. All of this had been before Roger became more aware of his sexuality; before he realized he liked to touch all sorts of bums and not just the ones that belonged to long-haired girls. Sometimes they belonged to long-haired boys.

There was one long-haired boy in particular that Roger wanted to touch very badly and it seemed he was willing to take on nearly every challenge to do so.

“You’re serious about this?” Roger inquired after Dominque made her whole spiel about how good Roger would be on the team. “You aren’t joking?”

“We’re down a male since Paul fucked off to Ireland,” Dominique explained. “Any event the band is going to play at, the cheerleaders will be too. Pep rallies and such. Nearly all sports events. So anywhere this John fellow is going, chances are we’ll be there too.”

“Christ, Dom. I could kiss you right now.”

Dominique held her hands up, keeping the blond at bay for the time being. “You can’t fuck around though, Roger. If you’re going to join, you have to arrive on time for every practice and show up. There are routines you have to learn and a uniform you’ll have to wear. You’re going to be apart of a team.”

“I’ll do it. Whatever you want, Dom. Thank you.”

“There’s one other thing,” Dominque mentioned, her gaze leaving Roger’s and floating suspiciously upwards.

The man had never imagined doing away with his beautiful mane but if that was what it took to be on the team, then he’d do it. He would fit the rather strict dress code to be on the team. Roger said a silent prayer to a God he didn’t believe in and went off to have his hair cut away. He nearly wept at the sight of the golden locks scattered across the floor, but he tried to remind himself that it was for a good cause, a great purpose.

After speaking with the cheerleading coach, Roger had been given a chance to be on the team though was promptly informed that he had to pay for his uniform since it was later in the season. Normally he would just pay for it out of pocket, but the rent was due and he had just spent his last bit of petty cash on a paint job for his car.

So with a heavy heart, Roger swallowed his pride and grabbed the guitar that his father had given him and brought it to the music shop in hopes of selling it. He had no real emotional connection to it. His father was a right bastard and he had no real interest in keeping something the man had given him. But he loved to play, even if he much preferred the drums.

He kept the instrument in good condition; keeping it tuned and swapping out the strings whenever needed. He was good at playing it, but he wasn’t much of a bassman. He was better with the regular acoustic or maybe even electric if he was in the mood.

He looked around a bit, keeping the item strapped to his back as he checked out the latest editions. He was caught off guard when his name had been called and nearly twisted an ankle when he spun around to see John approaching.

“Deacy. Hi.” He spoke breathlessly, leaning casually against a display. “I forgot you worked here.”

“I didn’t know you played the clarinet,” John mentioned. “What happened to your hair?”

Roger looked around, realizing he was currently standing in the wind section. He laughed it off, clearing his throat so he could speak and perhaps not sound like a shy moron. He had suddenly forgotten about his newest hairstyle and wondered how terrible he looked with it.

“Chopped it off. Thought I’d give the whole short-style ago, you know?”

“It looks good on you.” The brunet mentioned, pausing as he gave Roger another once over. “Do you need help with anything or were you just browsing?”

“I was hoping to sell my bass. Brian mentioned they buy used goods here.”

“Depends on the condition,” John told him. “Mind if I take a look.”

“No, not at all.” Roger looked around, spinning in circles as he searched for his guitar until remembered it was strapped to his back. Pulling it off, he handed the case to John, who placed it down on the counter.

He took a long moment admiring it, his fingers gently grazing along with the design of it carefully. “This is gorgeous, Meddows,” John admitted, turning his face away to look to Roger. “Do you mind?” He gestured, lifting it carefully.

Roger bobbed his head, watching as John checked the tuning. He slowly began plucking at the strings, playing whatever tune was stuck in his head. Roger found himself staring, watching those deft fingers play so easily. He found himself wondering what else those fingers could do.

“You’re sure you want to sell this?” He asked, pausing his playing. “It’s in perfect working order.”

“I’m in a bit of a bind. Need to buy a uniform before the week is up.” Roger confessed.

“How much is the uniform?”

“Twenty pounds.”

“I’ll give you twenty-five,” John told him straight away. “Thirty, if I can keep the case.”

It was more than Roger expected to get for it, even if the guitar was like new. It was sure his father spent well over a hundred for it and didn’t give a damn about the large loss in money. The old man could bugger off for all Roger cared. “Done deal. Do I have to sign anything?”

“Nope,” John said, going into his pocket, wiggling those fingers around until he pried out his wallet. He opened it up, rummaging through until he gathered the money up and slapped it onto the counter for Roger.

“What are you doing?”

“Buying your bass.” He announced. “I have been saving up for a new one, but this is in fine condition.”

“John . . . John! I would have given it to you for free!” He knew John had been saving up for a new instrument but he had never once thought about offering John the piece his father had given him. He didn’t want to taint such a beautiful person with such an ugly item and here he was paying out of pocket for it.

“No point. You need the money and I’ve been working enough hours to afford it without burning a hole in my pocket.” John said, zipping the base back up and putting it behind the counter for safekeeping. “What uniform are you buying? New job?”

“No. I just joined the cheer squad at school.” Roger admitted proudly.

John looked, well bluntly, quite taken back at that. Not surprising since Roger had never mentioned wanting to join in any co-curricular activities.

“Does that shock you?” Roger asked curiously.

“A bit, yeah.”

Roger played it off as casual, like always. Everything to him, no matter how serious it was, had been played down by Roger to keep up the appearance that he was just too cool for everything around him.

“Well, you know me. Full of surprises.”

“Guess I’ll be seeing you around then. On-campus and such.” John mentioned to him. He turned back at the sound of his name being called from across the shop and gave Roger an apologetic look.

“I guess you will,” Roger said, collecting his money. “Thank you, again. See you later, John.”

Hurrying out of the music shop, Roger made his way back home, eager to tell Freddie all about his latest achievement. When the following day came, he handed over the money and took home his uniform, trying it on in front of the mirror. It wasn’t an idea, but it would do.

White pants with a red top that sported the universities lettering. It was rather form-fitting, which Roger guessed was for the best. He put on a bit of a show in front of the mirror, laughing at his silliness before going to change for work.

He spent his entire shift thinking about what John would think of his uniform, of how nicely his biceps looked in it and how well the pants fit around his crotch. He thought of the uniform that John had to wear for the band and how nicely his hand would feel wrapped around that soft cotton that covered his bum.

When the following day came, he was right on time for practice, just like he said he would be. Dom had warned him that they weren’t going to easy on him because he was the new guy and they were right.

Sure, he had a bit of fun, watching the fit girls bounce around in their uniforms but his ex-girlfriend was quick to snap him back into reality and shove him towards the other two male cheerleaders who were quick to show him the moves he would need to know.

It was rather obvious that they weren’t just there to look sexy in the uniform. They had a job to accomplish and the only way to do that was to work with the ladies and to perform their steps in the routine. While the girls were to jump around and get thrown in the sky, the men had their moves. Flips and making their voices known during the cheers. They had to clap, and kneel, and catch the flyers.

The catching part was very, very important. Dominique partnered herself with Roger because she didn’t want to risk any of her other girls getting hurt by his mistake. However, she made it very clear that if he did anything to mess it up, she would cause him just as much pain.

“If you drop me, I cut off your dick. If you let me slip, I cut off your dick. If you do anything to make me regret this, I will wait for you to finally ask that boy out and when he finally says yes, I will sneak into your home on the night of your first date and cut off your dick.”

“I’m glad to see you’re still a fan of my cock, Dom,” Roger muttered, shifting slightly where he stood.

“I’ll put it above my mantle as a trophy. Most average size prick I ever touched.”

“Christ, hit me where it hurts,” Roger whined, his arms crossing over his chest. “And it’s not average. Highly above average, thank you.”

Dominique rolled her eyes, straightening her ponytail bow ever so slightly. “You lift me with the girls, hold me there for the five-seconds, toss me up and then catch me. That simple. I haven’t gained a single stone since we’ve been apart, so you better be able to hold me.”

“Do I look like a weak little boy?” Roger snapped, following Dominique back to the field.

He had to admit, it was a tad harder than he expected. Sure, he had a good amount of upper arm strength, but the tossing wasn’t ideal and he had to work on getting her on the right angle. Her feet had to sit properly in the palms of his hands and while he didn’t drop her, he did catch her a bit awkwardly a time or two.

The first practice wasn’t perfect but it didn’t need to be. They spent an hour every day working on their moves, their cheers, and everything in between. By the end of the weak, Roger was sore from the stretching and flips. He was somewhat lanky and was able to pull the moves off with easy, but it was still an adjustment to him. Still, the squad itself was full of likable people, which Roger appreciated and when it came time for the first game, he found himself more nervous than anything.

John was there, off to the side with the band. While he normally played the double bass during competitions, he was the conductor on events like this. Dressed in the schools best, Roger found himself distracted at the way he moved his arms, following the beat to the music. Or really, the beat was following him as he was lost in his little concentrated world.

John stood in that silly uniform that, to Roger, wasn’t silly but incredibly sexy, and continued to lead the band through their rendition of “California Dreaming.” They weren’t anywhere near California but Roger couldn’t help but think John looked like an absolute dream.

“Lord, you do have it bad,” Freddie commented from beside Roger.

While he man wasn’t exactly athletically inclined, he was more than willing to make the trip to the campus and watch Roger’s first big performance. He had teased Roger about the uniform, but he was supportive overall. He brought Mary along, who was sitting on the bleachers with Brian.

“He does look rather posh, though what can I say? I love a man in uniform.” Freddie commented, gripping Roger’s arm tightly as he broke his gaze from John and looked just beyond him. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“Oh god. I forgot he was on the bloody team!” Freddie hissed.

Roger turned, following to where he was looking. Off on the sidelines, speaking to his teammates was Jim Hutton. He was dressed for the game, his protective cap nestled under his arm as he drank from his water bottle. “God, I do love a man in uniform,” Freddie repeated slowly.

“Um. Freddie.” Roger elbowed him in the stomach, gesturing to where Mary was watching them. The dark-haired man waved to his girlfriend, smiling easily.

“Oh fuck me,” Freddie said through his teeth. “Should certainly be interesting.”

“I better head off. Wish me luck.”

“Break a leg, darling.”

Leaving Freddie’s side, Roger went over to the rest of the squad and felt like he was jumping out of his skin. Roger always liked being the center of attention. He liked having all eyes on him as he did what he did best, perform. Roger was born to be a star, to be in the spotlight.

This was different, however.

He didn’t care if the student body thought he looked foolish. He didn’t care if anybody saw him doing those silly cheers and ridiculous moves. All that mattered was what John thought. He may look a bit out of place, but he was doing something, right? He was using his time wisely.

Roger stood behind Dominique, breathing slowly until she made the call. After that, the bright smile went on and the bubbly appearance masked his obvious nervousness. He played it off as nothing, like he always did, and performed the moves that Dominique and the others showed him.

He did his flips and shouted the cheers. He clapped loudly and held on tight to his ex-girlfriend before throwing her up into the air and catching her properly. Overall, he did a pretty decent job and when the game was over (with their school winning for a change), Dominique invited Roger out to the diner to celebrate.

He dragged Freddie with him, who of course was stuck to his side until he found out Jim and a handful of other players came along as well. He sent Brian off to take Mary home, leaving Roger to sit next to Dominique who was chatting up one of the players.

Roger felt no jealousy, as they had been apart longer than they had been together, but it still felt strange just sitting there as she flirted. He sat back for a good while, sipping at his milkshake before deciding it was just too much fun for one night.

Pushing up from the table, he bid the group goodbye, turning on his heel so he could head out. He slammed into another diner goer and paused when he realized it was a few members of the band. He searched the diner in earnest, finally spotting the other male as he made his way out of the diner.

“John!” He shouted, skidding out of the diner and onto the sidewalk to meet up with the other man. “Hi. You were here the whole time?”

“Bit of a post-game tradition. Win or lose. We go and eat. The players. The band. Even the cheerleaders it seems.”

“Wish I had known. Would have sat by you. At least then someone would have talked to me.”

“Are you finished? I’m on my way back to the dorms.”

“I could walk with you if you like,” Roger suggested, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from being too antsy.

John smiled brightly, jutting his chin out to gesture Roger to follow him. While Roger no longer lived on campus, he knew the area well enough and was familiar with the building that John currently stayed in.

“I used to know a bloke that stayed in this dorm. We didn’t . . . it wasn’t like that. Tim wasn’t into guys like that.” He explained, his cheeks turning a bright color scarlet. “Anyway, we used to jam a bit before he went off on his own. Graduated and joined a band. Off to bigger and better things, I guess.”

“And you? What do you plan on doing once you’re finished with school?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Roger confessed. “My mum wanted me to be a dentist but it just wasn’t for me. I’ll have a biology degree. Don’t know what I can do with that but I’ll have it.”

Roger opened the door to the dorm, stepping aside so John could slip through and they carried on down the hall. “And you? What are you going to do with that electrical engineering degree?”

“Don’t know really. I like to tinker. I’ve been working on an amp for the past few weeks. Hoping to make something of it.”

“You could cater to rockstars,” Roger suggested brightly. “Build an amplifier that makes music louder than ever. You’d make millions.”

“Perhaps,” John laughed. “I’ve been practicing on my bass. It sounds all right, but I want it to be perfect before I do anything with it.”

“Maybe you could show me sometime?” Roger asked, stopping just as John stopped.

“You’d want to?” John asked him, sounding rather taken back. “All right. If you like.”

“I do like. I like a lot.” Roger insisted, watching the brunet as he jangled with his keys. He opened the dorm, gesturing Roger to follow inside.

The blond took a look around, getting an idea of the place. It was small, fit for barely one person alone. John’s bed was made neatly in the corner and across from it was a small desk topped with school books. In the corner was a wide arrange of records, going from ABBA to Zeppelin. Beside the dresser was the bass that Roger had sold him and tucked neatly underneath the bed was that amp he had spoken about.

There were posters on the wall and days crossed off on a calendar. Clothes tossed into a hamper and different boots stacked beside the door. It was so damn tiny and yet seemed so much like a home. It was far warmer and more welcoming than his place, which was twice the size and filled with lots more stuff.

“Apologies for the mess. Not used to visitors.” John said, scrambling around to move a few things. “Do you want a drink or anything? My sister bought me wine for my last birthday. Haven’t opened it yet.”

“No, no. It’s all right.” Roger suddenly felt the need to leave.

To turn on his heel and run away, so that is exactly what he did. He rambled on with some excuse as to why he had to go and walked right out of the dorm, running back to his apartment and not stopping until he hurled himself through the door and right in the middle of Freddie’s conversation with Jim on the couch. “Sorry to interrupt.” He muttered breathlessly, moving on wobbly legs to go back to his room.

Freddie found him there a few minutes later after bidding Jim a good night. Roger was hanging upside-down on his bed, feeling like a complete failure.

“So he invited you into his room — a place where he doesn’t get any visitors — and offered you a drink and you ran home like a cat scurrying from a thunderstorm.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Meddows, I know you are not some dumb blond but you’re feeding into that stereotype.”

“I know! I don’t even know why I did it. I just thought . . . if I say and if I drink, then maybe we’ll talk and talking could lead to touching and touching leads to more.”

“That is usually how it works, yes. Isn’t touching and more everything you’re aiming for?”

“Yes! But not like that! I want him to want me for me, not because we’re celebrating a big win and drinking cheap wine alone in his dorm.”

“Dammit Meddows, beggars can’t be choosers! He finally gave you the time of day and you ran like a whore from the church.”

“Can you stop making me feel bad about this? I’m already as low as I can go.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. You already joined the cheer squad to impress him, I’m sure there’s something below that.”

Roger’s baby blue eyes narrowed at the sight of Freddie and he twisted up onto his bed so he could sit against the headboard. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to cheat on?” He said wickedly.

Freddie lifted his chin, his hands falling to his hips in a snooty manner. “I’m going to tell Mary I want to see other people.” He announced. “I can’t help that my heart longs to be with someone else.”

“And your cock longs to be in someone else.”

“Do not mock me, Meddows. I am a sensitive soul.” Freddie quipped. “Figure out your own love life before you pick apart mine.”

Freddie stormed out then, leaving Roger alone with his thoughts. He tried to piece together what exactly it was he wanted and how he wanted to go about it. He went up and joined the bloody cheerleading team to prove to John that he was serious about life; he didn’t want all that work to be for nothing.

He tried to talk to Dominique about it over lunch, though she felt the very same as Freddie. “Just go for it.”  She insisted. “Stop overthinking it and just ask the boy out. Stop fussing and just do it already.”

“Easy for you to say. I’ve never liked someone like this before.” Roger confessed, receiving a glare from his ex. “Oh come on, Dom. Don’t look at me like that. We were more physical than anything.”

“And it’s different from John?”

“I haven’t even hold his hand. It’s the least physical I have ever been with someone.” It wasn’t like Roger didn’t think about it. Those fantastically long fingers that played the bass so very well. Roger wondered what those fingers would feel like wrapped around his cock or pushing deep inside him, opening up until could have something else of John’s inside of him.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Roger muttered, his arms wrapping around himself.

Roger knew what he was like before this. The playboy who didn’t care about anything other than himself. The guy who could look pretty and shine those pearly white teeth without an issue. He was a beautiful man and used that to get equally beautiful people to do his bidding.

And here he was, trying his hardest to find a way to win the affection of someone so painfully quiet and utterly gorgeous that he was going completely bonkers over it all.

“I know I messed up with you, Dominique, but I have to believe I’ve grown from that. I’m not some silly lad anymore who chases tail and only cares about himself.”

“This John must be pretty special to have you in a tizzy about it all.”

“He’s wonderful.” Roger insisted. “He’s kind and smart, and creative. I could introduce you. Still, crap at maths?”

“Brian already offered to help me,”

“Good luck with that. He tended to offer to help any pretty girl he sees.”

“Do you think he’d be a good lay? The hair looks like it would be fun to tug on.”

“Can you not talk about fucking my mate while I’m eating?” Roger hissed, tossing his sandwich back down onto the plate.

He swore quietly, checking the time on his watch. He had skipped his lecture hall to meet up with Dominique and the hour dragged long quicker than expected. He was fifteen minutes into his free hour, meaning he was late for his daily tutoring hour.

“I gotta head out. I’ll see you at practice?”

“Cheryl wants to try a new mid-air flip. I hope you and the boys are ready to catch her.” Dominique warned, jutting her cheek out to him.

Roger swooped down, planting a wet kiss onto her cheek before hurrying off to the tutoring hall. Freddie and Brian were there, chatting like always though John was nowhere in sight. Roger plopped down in his seat, searching the room to see if he was somewhere helping another student, but the place was empty except for them.

“He isn’t here Romeo,” Freddie informed him.

“Maybe he’s late? I was.”

Brian hummed, shaking his head. “Isn’t like him. Maybe he’s skipping today.”

“John doesn’t skip. He’s too proper for such things.”

“You don’t think I chased him off, do you?” Roger muttered, groaning aloud as he slammed his head down onto the table. “I bloody ruined it all, didn’t I?”

“Oh come now. Deacy isn’t the type to scurry away. I’m sure something just came up.” Freddie prompted, sitting up straighter. “Now hand over your notebook. I slept through Professor Reid’s endless droning and need to catch up.”

Roger tossed the scribbled on notebook over, leaning back in his seat in defeat. He spent the rest of the day feeling somewhat miserable and did his best to mask it during practice. He made the mark on his flip and showed one of the girls a proper way to do a cartwheel. They allowed Cheryl to did her little toss-and-flip and even managed to catch her before she ate dirt.

Still, Dominique had a good eye for this and sight Roger out when the practice was over, insisting that he walk her to her car when it was over. Once again Roger opened his heart out to her, vocally vomiting everything that was going on inside his head.

He felt like an utter fool, going so far to impress a person who probably didn’t even like him very much.

“I’m sure he likes you just fine, Meddows. He was probably just busy. Surely he’s missed one of those tutoring days since the beginning of the semester.”

“Maybe once. He had the flu. Fred and I brought him soup and orange juice.”

“Why weren’t you this doting when were together?” Dominique asked, bumping her shoulder against his own as they walked through the parking lot.

“Cause, I was an idiot back then. I’m an idiot now, but you know . . . different levels of an idiot.”

Dominque stopped outside her car, pausing to turn and throw her bag into the passenger seat. “Meddows. Just talk to him. Even if your worst fears come true, then at least you’ll know and won’t have to deal with the worrying.”

“When did you become so wise?”

“Dealing with dimwitted men can make any woman a genius,” Dominique mentions. “Go on now. Get out of here.”

Roger leaned down, kissing her cheek before backing away so she could head off-campus. Roger went back to his apartment, changing out of his uniform so he could head off to work. He did his best to stay focused and sell the items.

He managed to put on a good face and persuade a woman to purchase three pieces of clothing and two earrings, though he knew he was better than that. Luckily, Freddie was a far better salesperson than him and was able to get rid of half the things settled on their table for the day.

The following day, when Roger arrived at the tutoring room, John was already settled with Brian, chatting up about something far about Roger’s understanding. Freddie followed a few minutes later and automatically launched into a generous amount of demands to know where John was.

He gave a short explanation, insisting that he had work he needed to get done and was working after hours with a professor for some extra credit. He shifted in his seat, his cheeks darkening ever so slightly. “Didn’t think any of you would notice.” He confessed quietly.

Freddie gasp dramatically, throwing his scarf across the table, hitting John gently with it. “How dare you! We’ve spent an hour together for nearly half the year and you think we wouldn’t notice you gone? For-shame, Deacy.”

“Brian?” The four looked up, watching as a pretty blond girl walked through the door.

The curled man sprung up from his seat, dashing away from the table to greet the young lady. He gestured to the back corner, turning back to grab his books so they could begin their private study session.

“Another one? How does he do it?” Roger muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “Is that Chrissie?”

“I thought her name was Anita?” Freddie wondered.

“Does it matter what her name is? She’s pretty and blond, so obviously she’s Brian’s type.” John commented.

“I guess that means Meddows’ is his type.” Freddie teased, poking Roger’s shoulder gently. “I thought he’d give Mary ago after the breakup. I guess he puts friendship over pussy. I’m touched.”

“Do you have to be so graphic?” John grumbled.

“Oh, like you’re not a dirty bird underneath that shy facade?” Freddie smirked, leaning across the table to be closer to John. “When are you going to come out with us, John? Meddows and I always love a good party.”

“We don’t party that often, Fred.” Roger reminded him. “Too busy with work and school. Now the cheering. Can’t remember the last time we went out.”

“Then we’ll have to go out soon.” Freddie insisted. He slammed his hand down onto the table, causing all those in the room to turn their way by the sound. “Tonight! We’ll throw a party.”

“It’s a school night.” Roger reminded him. “And people work. And our flat is small.”

“Too late. I’m already planning it in my head. Meddows, you’ll be there. Brian! Brian’s lovely friend! Party at our flat tonight. Everyone!” Freddie stood, circling the room to gather attention. “Freddie Mercury — design major. I want to invite you all to a party at my flat tonight. Bring anything you like! Food — drinks — a lover for the night. Whatever you want!”

“Freddie!” Roger hissed, shaking his head at the other male.

“And you darling,” Freddie turned, walking back to the table and laying across it dramatically, smiling brightly as he moved to face John. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“I have work tonight, Fred.” John began carefully.

“So come after! The party will last all night, Deacy.” Pushing off the table, Freddie stood, gathering his things. “Off to get supplies. Meddows here will give you the address. Ta-ta darlings!”

Both John and Roger watched as Freddie left the tutoring hall, which slowly went back to normal as the people let go of the moment of excitement and went back to studying.

“So um, the address?” John asked, looking to Roger.

The blond scrambled with his notebook, pulling out a blank sheet of paper so he could scribble the address down onto it. He passed it over to John, still surprised it was even happening.

“Guess I’ll see you tonight,” John mentioned, rising from his seat and leaving the tutoring hall.

Roger sat at the table, alone and baffled about what just happened. He and Freddie used to throw parties every other week when they first bought their flat, but things had changed when they got closer to their final year. They took things more seriously and focused most of their time on work. Now they’d be having a party on a school night and John would be attending.

Running out of the room, Roger went off to his cheer practice, extending the invitation to everyone on the team, including Dominque. When he got home, he changed out of his uniform and showered. He was thankful to work at the shops as he had plenty of clothing to choose from. He swapped outfits four different times before finally settling on one that showed off all his assets.

He had yet to properly learn how to style his new hair but he thought he did a good job with the comb and hairspray and in the end, found that he liked the way he looked. White button-down, light blue jeans, and colorful suspenders. He also strapped on his sparkling pink trainers. He had gotten them at the shops on the cheap — a mere fiver; donated by some wild woman who had put glitter on nearly every piece of clothing she had. They fit perfectly and Roger took good care of them and even added a bit of varnish to help them shine.

He helped Freddie set up though the outcome was far larger than expected. Freddie was popular enough on campus and now that Roger was on the cheer team even more people were coming around. By the time the party was at its peak, their entire flat was filled with people and most had moved out into the back yard for a bond fire.

Freddie sweet-talked their landlord to be able to have a bit of fun so long as nothing’s damaged and the noise was kept to a minimum.

Roger went around, talking to everyone as he filled up his cup again and again. He kept his eyes searching, hoping to catch sight of the only person he had hoped to show up but he had yet to arrive. Freddie tried to keep him feeling bright, filling his cup whenever it was empty and pushing him on the makeshift dance floor.

He had to admit, he was having fun. He was never much of a dancer, he far preferred to be playing music than moving to it, but who was he to deny his best friend? Brian joined in, keeping that lovely blonde girl from the tutoring hall by his side throughout the night.

But even though the drinking and dancing, there was still that itch in the back of Roger’s mind that kept him from fully enjoying himself. He knew it was pathetic. He had a room full of gorgeous people and he was sure he could persuade just about any of them to sneak away into his bedroom with him, but he didn’t want that.

He wanted John. That, sweet, shy man that made him gush and stumble with his words. Who saw right through his ‘cool guy’ facade and saw the gentleman that laid beneath. He could make him want to become a better made and do utterly ridiculous things like a throw away his pride and try out for the rugby team and join the cheer squad.

Roger never imagined having it this badly for someone, but it was safe to say he was completely head over heels for the Deacon lad. As the night neared towards the end, Roger (after the countless drinks he had) decided to confess his undying love to John the next time he saw him.

“I’m going to go up to him and say: Deacy! I love you. And you should let me hold your hand!” Roger confessed between bouts of throwing up. He was kneeling out in the garden with Dominique sitting behind him.

“That’s romantic, Meddows.” She commented, grimacing as he heaved up whatever was left in his stomach. “At least I don’t have to hold your hair back anymore.”

“I held your hair back.” Roger reminded her, groaning as he fell back onto his heels, taking deep breathes of fresh air.

“Are you ready to go inside yet?” She asked him carefully. Roger thought of moving but decided to stay put until the world around him stopped spinning. “Do you want me to fetch you some water?” Accepting his slow nod, Dominique stood and slipped through the back door, leaving Roger on his own.

He fell backward and laid amongst the grass and stared up at the giant, glowing moon until something even prettier came into view.

“Meddows?” John asked, those gray eyes narrowing as he looked at the male. “Why are you on the grass?”

“I’m . . . I am grass. Meddows, remember? Grass.” Roger proclaimed. “I’m with my people.” He added. When another awkwardly silent beat passed, he shifted on the ground, sitting up slightly. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I had work.” John reminded him. He wasn’t wearing the shirt from the music shop, but rather a rather smart tee-shirt, bell bottoms, and some extraordinary pale suede boots. Roger loved John’s boots. The amount of height they would give John and the way they seemed to perk up his bottom. “I just got off. Some party you have here.”

Roger wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and pushed away from the garden, choosing to sit further in on the lawn. “I . . . I don’t usually drink like this anymore.” He admitted. “Freddie . . . it’s more his party than mine.”

“I know, Meddows,” John said, offering a sympathy smile.

Roger shifted, his fingers digging into the ground and tugging up the bright green blades beneath him. He licked his lips, taking the terrible mixture of his vomit and the alcohol he had consumed. John looked so uncomfortable like he didn’t fit there even if it was just the two of them. The blond tried to think of something, anything, to make John feel like he didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

“That’s not my name.” He confessed, turning his head as he began to hiccup. “Not my first name. It’s my middle name. When I came here, I just . . . I don’t know. I wanted to be someone else. Someone better than the small born raised in Cornwall. Freddie found out my middle name was Meddows and he liked the sound of it. I’ve gone by that ever since.”

John was quiet as he listened. For a moment, in Roger’s fuzzy mind, he thought the other male would scoff at his admission and walk off out of the fight. But instead, he moved closer, going to sit beside Roger on the grass. “What's your name then?”

“Roger.” He said aloud. It was the first time he had said it in so long and as John repeated it, he found it was the first time someone outside of his mother and sister had said it in quite a long time.

“Roger,” John repeated, trying it out. He bobbed his head, offering a smile in approval. “I like this. It fits you. Meddows fits too but . . . just something about Roger that works.”

“I like your name too. John.”

The brunet wrinkled his nose, looking around the empty yard as the music from the flat echoed around them. “Quite average really.”

“I love it,” Roger swore. “It’s . . . promising and strong. Lovely. Just like you.”

Even in the dim light and without his glasses, Roger could see the shade of John’s cheeks darkening slightly. Roger wondered what else he could say to keep the man blushing. To gain such a soft reaction from such a lovely person.

“I love-”

“Twenty-four hours later!” Dominique announced as she made her way out into the yard. “Apologies, Dows! Your flatmate kept trying to pull me onto the dance floor. I must admit, he has some moves. Oh.” Dominique paused, looking between the two. “Hello there.”

“Dom this is John. Deacon. Deacy. John, this is Dominique.”

“Beyrand,” John spoke aloud. “We have environmental studies together.”

“We also spend all our game nights together. Someone has to support our rubbish rugby team.” Dominique stepped forward, holding a glass of water out for Roger. “Wash your mouth out.”

“Thank you, love.” Roger took the glasses, using the contents to the garbage and spit out into the garden.

John stood then running his hands down his legs to clean the grass of his bottom. “It’s getting late. I should head out.”

“But you just got here,” Roger stated, feeling, and sounding and probably even looking like a kicked puppy.

“And I have an eight am class.” John excused, bidding both a good night before heading through the front gate and into the shadows.

Roger sat back on the grass, frowning at another lost opportunity. Roger looked up to Dominque, who offered a small shrug and sorry glance. “Sorry, Dows. I have to head off too. Same class tomorrow.” With a kiss on the head, Dominique left Roger alone in the yard.

Without a worry about tomorrow or even care to leave, Roger fell back against the grass, deciding it was just better to sleep there than to force himself back into his bedroom. He was just about to fall asleep when Brian and his lady love stumbled out the door and tripped over him.

The drunk bastard was trying to get home and went out the wrong door. Could he not see Roger was trying to slumber in his horrific bubble of self-awareness. Roger went off to his room and curled up in his bed, hoping to hide out from the world for a little while longer.

He allowed the days to pass by without any issue. He went to class but didn’t learn. He went to work but didn’t sell a thing unless Freddie was there to probe the customer. He went to cheer practice and did the routine, but there was no real pep in his step. Dominique was telling the team about an upcoming pep rally that they’d be performing for, though Roger didn’t pay much attention to it all.

Roger was feeling terrible and fell into that small, grumpy funk that he had no real idea on how to get out of.

He felt so incredibly lost and found that he was just digging himself further and further into the ground with no place to go.

“Meddows, I swear. If you don’t stop out of this, I’m going to lock you out of the flat and force you to sleep on the street.” Freddie threatened after Roger threw another tantrum after John skipped out on their tutoring hours.

“Can’t you see that I am suffering?” Roger snapped, his hand over his heart; a heart that was literally and figuratively breaking right in front of their eyes and here Freddie was, being so cruel and hateful. “You lucked out, all right? You and Brian, both found your people to be with and the one person I want to be with can’t stand the sight of me and I have no idea why.”

“Do you hear yourself? Roger, you need to calm down. And, I don’t know, perhaps talk to John about this?”

“And say what? Why don’t you love me?”

“Maybe bring it down a peg?” Brian mentioned from the corner.

“You two are unbelievable. I poured my heart out to you both and you mock me.”

“What do you want us to do, Meddows?” Freddie demanded. “We can’t very well drag John out here can we?”

“Just talk to him,” Brian suggested, putting down his book to look to Roger. “Deacy isn’t the type to just ignore you. I’m sure he just has a lot going on.”

“This is easy for you. He’s just your friend, nothing more. I’m the one whose heart is being picked to pieces.”

“Meddows you can either go and find John or I swear, Brian and I will find a way to torture you. I don’t know if we’ll rip your car to pieces or shave off what is left of your hair but you have five seconds to get out of our sight. Five . . . four . . . .”

“Freddie that isn’t fair.”

“Three . .  .two. . . .”

“Just go talk to him!” Brian shouted.

“Rotting bastards you are.” Roger hissed as he scurried out the door.

He walked the campus for a good while, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew he was overreacting and that that because he went up and beyond to prove something that didn’t mean John was obligated to feel anger similar. If it turned out that John had no interest in him than he would move on without regret. You can’t change a person mind and Roger wasn’t going to attempt it.

And yet he was left without an answer, wondering still if there ever could be a chance for them. Roger continued to roam the grounds until he came upon the familiar building. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he slipped inside, counting down the numbers until he found the door he needed.

Roger couldn’t faintly hear music coming from the inside and for a moment he thought that perhaps John wasn’t alone in there. That just maybe he found someone worthy of his time and was trying to have a bit of alone time with them. For a small moment, Roger thought about walking away and hiding before finally saying screw it, and going forward.

He knocked tightly, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for the door to open. When it did, he opened his mouth to speak but quickly snapped it shut when he saw the man. Gone were his beautifully long locks; cut away to show off the high cheekbones and pale skin that John often hid away from the world.

“Roger,” He spoke, the name sounding so very sweet on his tongue despite being full of surprise.

“You cut your hair,” Roger announced as if it wasn’t incredibly obvious. John’s hair was longer than his own and now it was above his shoulders. Roger itched to reach out and touch it, tangle his deft fingers in what was left of that chocolate brown mop. He stopped himself, remembering where he was.

“Yeah. I did. Yeah.” John lifted his hand then, touching the nape of his neck ever so carefully. “I don’t . . . it’s a big adjustment.

“Is that why you’ve been missing tutor hall?” 

“What? No. I . . . didn’t Freddie tell you?” John asked quietly. Roger’s face faltered, his short hair shaking around him as he shook his head. “We have a rally to get ready for. I’ve been with the band all week.”

“Ah. Right.” Leave it to Freddie to keep such an important piece of information from Roger. Allowing him to spiral down into absolute insanity. What a bloody bastard. “Must have slipped his mind.”

John paused, turning back so he could turn the music off. “Thought you were my RA coming to tell me to turn the music down.”

“Bay City Rollers. Good album.” Roger muttered, peeking his head into the room, relieved to find it empty except for John.

“Doing their song for the rally. Just trying to get an idea of it.”

“Wish I could help.”

“Not unless you want to sing it for me,” John jokes, going to plop down onto his mattress. “You can sit if you like. I was just studying. Not very exciting.”

“I thought you came down with the flu or something. Or you realized you were wasting your time with Fred, Brian, and me. Finally came to your senses and decided to stop hanging out with us.”

“No no! You’re all fun. I just take this stuff way too seriously and needed some time away. Besides you’re just as busy with the cheering.”

“Right. Busy, busy boys.”

“How is it going? Do you like it? The cheering and stuff.”

“Oh, I love it. Stretching out. Catching the birds.”

“Learning all those cheers. Do you have any favorites?”

Roger laughed, rubbing his chest slowly. “Oh, hard to choose from. There’s the good old fashioned: we got the spirit, yes we do! We got the spirit, how ‘bout you!?”

“I love when you have the crowd spell words. Victory and such.” John revealed.

“Telling everyone to be aggressive.” Roger laughed quietly. “It’s great. And the band? You like it?”

“It’s fun. It looks good on my resume. We . . . a scout is coming to the rally and I want to put on a good show. Hence why I...” John gestured upwards, motioning his hand around his hair or lack thereof.

“I think you look great, Deacy. Gorgeous.” Roger told him outright. “Really! You’re a bloody heartthrob.”

“You’re teasing, Roger,” John said, the coloring of his cheeks deepening.

“I’m being honest! I should drag you out of here and take you to the disco. Let the world see how sexy you are in your button-down and trainers.”

“It’s a school night, Roge. Wasn’t Fred’s party enough for you?”

Roger grimaced, shaking his head as he thought back to that night and the hell he went through. “Don’t think I’ll be going to one of his parties again for quite a while.”

“He throws them at your flat.” John reminded him.

Roger shrugged, going to sit down on the edge of John’s bed. “I’ll just crash here then.” He said confidently. “I could have the floor or we could share the bed. Do you prefer to be the big or little spoon?”

John shoved him away, going to sit against the headboard. “You’re ridiculous.”

Roger leaned back, enjoying the comfortable silence. It was rare that Roger found himself not having to babble one. He always felt the need to talk, as if deep down he believed he had to show his worth to be valued by those around him. He would sing or speak, make his presence known but not with John. Here they could just be together, doing their own thing while also being together. It was a neat little solace that Roger quietly treasured.

“Off from the market?” John asked after a moment, looking up from his textbook.

“Yeah. Freddie took some of my hours. He wants to save up to take Jim out.”

“Newest couple on the block.” John hummed, tossing his book aside.

“It’s very romantic. The rugby player and the design student.”

“They could write books on it. Sonnets even.”

“I wouldn’t put it passed Freddie to do something disgustingly romantic for Jim. I mean, they’ve only gotten together but he’s head over heels for the guy.”

“Has Brian ever done anything romantic?”

“You mean aside from writing a girls final paper?” Roger teased. “I’m sure he’s done something. What about you?”

John shook his head, pulling his knees to his chest. “No, no. I’m not very creative.”

Roger scoffed, moving to partially lie on the bed, getting a better look to the man. “That is an absolute lie and you know it. I’ve seen you work your magic on the bass and in your conducting.”

“I’m creative in music, Roger but aside from that I’m just . . . boring.”

“Say one more bad word about yourself and your ass is going to the bloody disco. I’ll spin you around the dance floor until you’re seeing stars.”

“What about you?” John laughed, switching the subject back. “Anything romantic?”

Roger thought about it, finding himself coming up empty. Sure, he would woo a date now and then, but never had he liked anyone enough to put a lot of thought into it. He felt rather silly, being in a room with someone he cared so deeply for and yet he couldn’t think of a single romantic thing he had done for John.

“No. No actually. Nothing comes to mind.” He confessed.

“I’m sure you could come up with something. They’d be lucky, that special someone, to have you put the time and effort in.”

Sure, Roger did things to prove himself worthy of John but he had yet to do something for John. Something that would show that he did put in the time and put in the effort to show just how much he cared.

Roger sprung off the bed then, nearly falling off of it as a result of moving so fast.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, sitting up quickly, those gorgeous gray eyes wide with worry.

“I have to go.” He muttered aloud. “I have to speak to Dom. I’ll talk to you later, Deacy!” Without another word, Roger ran out of the dorm and across campus to Dominque’s sorority where he stood outside, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet until she came out.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, he poured his heart out to his ex-girlfriend, expressing how terrible of a former boyfriend he had been and how he wants to make the final change by showing John just how wonderful he could be.

Dominque shook her head, pinching his arm for being such a moron before agreeing to help him. It wouldn’t easy, but Roger wasn’t the type to half-ass anything he put his mind to. If he was going to do something, he was going to succeed with it.

He spent almost night and day for the past following days coming up with the plan. The last time he had worried so much about one single thing, it was learning an extended solo on the drums. It took him several days to get it right, but when he did, it was downright impressive. Roger hoped to have the same amount of luck here.

On the night of the pep rally, Roger felt like he was going to barf right on the rugby field. He was standing off to the side with Freddie, who was fussing about with Jim. There wasn’t a legitimate game, but the players were all out and in uniform. Half the student body was sitting among the bleachers, all ready to support their school and the selected sport.

Now and then Roger would cast a look over to John, who was busy practicing with the marching band. Roger had almost forgotten how important this night was for him, as the scout was sitting high up in the bleachers, speaking with a few professors, as well as Coach Beach.

“Shall we get the show on the road?” Dominique asked, her pompom holding hands settling on her hips. “Smiles up! I want to see your teeth. Loud as possible. Elton — do not forget to step out before you flip and Cheryl —if you fall and break your back from your flip, I’m not riding to hospital with you again. Now positions!”

Turning on her heel, Dominique took the lead, with the others getting into formation behind her. She led them off through their routine, which was enough to get the crowd going in between Coach Beach making small speeches and the rugby team going through a few plays.

Freddie stood in the bleachers beside Brian and his lady of choice, shouting along with them any chance he got. Roger wondered why he wouldn’t join the team as he had more pep and energy than all of them combined, but that was a discussion for another time.

They went through their routines and showed off a few more cheers that Dominique had been saving for this very moment. It was obvious that she lived for rallies like these, where the main focus wasn’t so much the actual players but rather those who supported them, such as the cheerleaders and the band.

Roger watched in earnest as John and the band took the field, showing off their routine. Gone were his six-inch boots and long hair. He was wearing trainers and that strangely gorgeous uniform with all the buttons and sash and that oversized hat on his head.

The performers some of their usual songs as well as became background music for some of the cheers. Dominique was extremely happy with their work of “Saturday Night” by Bay City Rollers, as the cheer itself was enjoyable to do, with lots of throws and twist and it got the crowd on their feet. Roger was sure after this he would never forget how to spell Saturday for as long as he lived.

It was the last performance that Roger was most excited for as well as most nervous. He had used Dominique to find out what the last song was and it turned out to be one that he was very familiar with. He used this as the moment to show John just how much he supported him and that he was capable of a bit of romance by making an utter fool of himself.

The moment the final song began to play, Roger sent a final prayer to whatever higher power there was in the universe and took off running, grabbing the microphone from the stand. Dominique and the other cheerleaders as his background dancers, Roger began singing.

The crowd took it as a planned event and cheered louder for them, though Roger paid them no mind. He kept his eyes on the highly confused male who was doing his best to continue with his conducting despite the moment of hesitation.

Now hear me, darling, I just want to be beside you everywhere

As long as we're together, honey, I don't care

'Cause you started something, can't you see

That ever since we met you've had a hold on me

No matter what you do, I only want to be with you

I said, no matter, no matter what you do, I only want to be with you

Throwing the microphone aside, Roger turned, ending the number with a move that he had spent days practicing. As Dominique explained, it was a ‘front handspring step out, round off back handspring, step out with a full-twisting layout’ though to Roger it was just a bunch of flips, twist and to add his own flair, Roger ended it with a bounce on his feet with his arm high and smile bright.

The crowd went wild, shouting as the cheerleaders waved their pompoms and the rugby team took the field once more. Roger took his dramatic bow and accepted the water bottle that Dominique shoved into his hand as they went back onto the sidelines. He tried to spot John, but he was nowhere in sight and when he did find him at the end of the rally, he was busy talking to the scout.

Roger stood, barely listening to whatever it was Freddie was going on about until finally, he snapped back into reality. They were going to the diner to celebrate and wanted to know if Roger was coming along. The blond agreed to meet up with them later and stayed behind, watching from a distance until John was free from the conversation.

He approached cautiously, offering a smile when John noticed him. “Were they pleased? The scout?”

“Excessively.” He proclaimed. “They want to put my name in for a masters program. They think I have a lot of potentials.”

“Are you joking? John, that’s wonderful!”

“It seems I have you to thank for it. They thought I orchestrated that whole musical bit. They found it to be rather innovative.”

“Take all the credit. I did it for you anyhow.” Roger confessed. “Did you . . . were you pleased? I know you aren’t one that likes to be the center of attention, but I just thought . . . I wanted to show you that I was serious. And you did say singing would help.”

“It was . . . very different, but I liked it. You sing very well, Roger. You’re a proper showman.”

“Are you going to the diner? Maybe we could go together? We can sit with the band if you like. Or off on our own. Whichever.”

“Dominique won’t be upset if you don’t sit with her?” John asked, his head cocking. “How did you persuade her to do that anyway? The song?”

“She helped me choreograph it!” Roger admitted. “She thought the whole idea was completely bonkers but wanted to help.”

“That’s rather . . . lively of her. Are you open?”

“Open to what?”

“In your relationship. Dominique of your girlfriend, isn't she?”

“My what?” Roger cocked his head, his eyes narrowing as he tried to understand. “Dom isn’t my girlfriend. We haven’t been together since college.”

“I saw you hug her. And you kissed her cheek and she brought you water at the party.”

“She’s my friend, John. One of my closes. Poor thing has been there for me more times than I can count.” Roger stared at the brunet as if he had grown a second head; those baby blues wide and wild. “John, can you honestly not see that I am completely hung up on you?”

“You . . . Roger, you ran from me twice. And the second time was because you had to go speak to her.”

“To help me with all this!” Roger waved his arms around dramatically. “I wanted to do something romantic and needed some help setting it all up. She is the Captain of the cheer squad after all. Can’t do anything without her blessing.”

“So you didn’t join the squad to be close to her?”

“What? No, you tosser! I joined to be closer to you! You’re on the band and I thought if I was on cheerleading than we’d be around one another during games. And you said you wanted to be with someone who used their time wisely and I thought if you saw that I joined a team you’d take me seriously.”

“You did this all for me?”

“Yes! The cheering, the singing. Fairly certain I would do anything for you at this point, Deacy.” Roger sighed deeply, suddenly realizing that this was all for nothing. He turned, opening his mouth to apologize for being such a bother and even a distraction for John, but he was cut off by the brunet.

By a kiss, specifically.

John’s hands, which were calloused yet careful, held tight onto Roger’s face as his mouth crashed down onto Roger’s. After a moment, Roger came to his senses and pushed onward, kissing John back with everything he hand. He wrapped his arm around John, keeping him close with the second hand dug into those beautiful curls, tugging ever so slightly until they both pulled back to breathe.

“That . . . is a lot, Roger.” John breathed slowly.

“The kiss or me in general?” Roger asked, already chasing those beautifully soft lips with his own.

Now that Roger had a taste, he didn’t want to stop.

“Everything you’ve done for me. Nobody has ever done anything for me.”

“I would do anything for you, John. Anything.” Roger confessed, smiling as brightly as ever.

He felt like a child finally going to Disney World. Or a man finally getting the man that he was completely in love with.

“You’re insane, Roger,” John muttered though he didn’t sound disappointed. He sounded rather pleased, to be honest.

“I’m a lot more than that,” Roger swore, not caring how breathlessly he sounded or how wide his smile was. His fingers brushed the hairs at the nap of John’s neck, circling there carefully. “And I’d love to take you out and show you if you’d agree.”

“Another time,” John replied softly. “What do you say to a private celebration back at my place?”

If Roger could smile any brighter, he would. He wouldn’t have suggested it himself, not wanting to be too forward with this man, but it seemed John himself was full of surprises. “Are you ready to open that bottle of wine, Mr. Conductor?”

John just laughed, taking Roger’s hand in his own. Their fingers laced together so perfectly it was nearly frightening, but Roger had nothing to fear any longer. They walked off the field together, in the director of John’s dorm and their future together.

And oh how Roger looked forward to both.