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yjwhatif · 3 years

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With the semi/cryptic confirmation of Ed and Barts relationship in the series I have a question:

Do you think everyone knows about them (in world) or do you think they’re keeping it secret from some?

It’s just a thought that’s been in my head recently. It is most likely fuelled by the whole drama of G&B not being able to depict a “specific character” (it’s definitely Bart) as gay. They’ve had to hide the relationship from their audience - because of ridiculous reasons - but there are still moments that bring up the question - Are they? Before the reveals from AskGreg, I kinda thought- well they are clearly not together yet, but perhaps they both have feelings for one another and are just waiting for the other to make the next move because they’re nervous idiots who don’t want to have read the situation wrong — all while their friends are like - seriously guys? just get together already. Kinda like they did in s1 with Wally and Artemis - and I guess early Supermartian as well - which I would have been okay with... though with the likelihood of there being at least another two year time skip you’d probably have missed the getting together moment - which would kinda suck. Anyway. With the information about the chances being they were supposed to clearly be in a relationship throughout S3 — which makes the whole structuring of ILLUSIONS just make sense — it’s got me viewing their moments with a whole new energy. Also, I saw this post by Greg —

And let me just clarify, I have no idea if this is actually referencing the Ed and Bart stuff, it might not be (probably isn't). This is purely me speculating.

My reading of this is they got told they couldn’t depict Bart as gay pretty late on and that specifically affected ILLUSIONS where they likely intended to confirm the relationship with that first shot - the kiss on the cheek moment. Even now that moment is just odd - because it’s there but it’s not - because technically there is no actual kiss… which I think is absolutely the point. It plants the seed without actually breaking any rules - all by keeping the momentum but removing the specific kiss frame. It’s the only moment that I feel is explicit in saying they are in a relationship - everything else you can just read into and imply there’s something - but they technically don’t confirm anything.

The whole thing is actually quite interesting - despite the reasoning for it being totally ridiculous. By keeping/showing what they did... People notice it. People talk about it. People reflect on it. More people talk about it. People writing. Make. Create. Discuss it. An entire audience is formed who want and support it. It’s a whole thing now because people noticed it and generated a positive response to it - and that was before all the AskGreg information. The whole reason YJ got a season 3 is because the fans fought to get it back. Enough people talked about it - and kept talking about it - to convince TPTB that the show should come back. Greg and Brandon know this. They know the power the fans have and maybe they hoped that power would help them again in freeing Bart from these ridiculous restrictions. #letbartoutofthecloset

Obviously, we can't know until S4 is released whether G&B got the permission to confirm Bart's sexuality the way they envisioned - but maybe the responses that came during the release of 3b were enough to convince TPTB that they were fighting a losing battle. But who knows, people in power can be very stubborn at times, so we will just have to see what we get. Fingers crossed they eased up though - and not just because of the Ed/Bart relationship (which I am obviously a fan of -- it's fine if not everyone is) - but because these restrictions on LGBTQ+ content shouldn't be a thing and need to stop -- there is just no validity in them.

Anyhow. despite their not being allowed to officially confirm the relationship, Greg's comment about Ed's having a boyfriend they can't name basically confirms the fact without technically breaking any rules again. Masterfully done Wiesman. With this, it implies the pair are in fact dating during S3 which brings us back to the original question... but who knows??

With the comments of Virgil during ILLUSIONS, it's easy to assume their friends do in fact know. They also seem to have no problem being close and interacting with one another whilst in the presence of others -- that is, except for one moment...

Ever since the first time I saw this episode (ELDER WISDOM) I have always found this moment strange - because Ed seems to get kinda awkward when Barry comes to check on Bart. (Or that's how I see it at least.) He realises Flash is standing there and immediately pulls his head down averting his gaze -- almost like he doesn't want to be seen by the elder. But why? Does Barry not know about the pair -- or maybe he doesn't know about Bart and Ed thinks their current closeness is too revealing -- who's to say Bart's even fully out to the world yet -- who's to say either of them are? We certainly don't since we weren't allowed to be shown. We can't know until we know - so until then we can play the speculation game while we wait.

Bart is certainly a bit of a secret keeper when it comes to being himself. I'm still convinced the Bart we see onscreen is merely his interpretation of what he thinks people expect from a speedster in this time. We saw 'real' Bart, he was snarky and cynical and nothing like the Bart we've had for the past two seasons. He said it himself - he's playing a character - and I don't think he knows how to break out of it - not while the possibility exists that it might hurt those he's grown to care about. Bart wants to be seen a certain way to avoid acknowledging the truth of the past - if people see him as happy and smiley, then no one will question him on things he doesn't want to talk about. The problem with that is you can't hide yourself forever - cracks begin to form and eventually, the truth comes out whether you want it to or not. So who knows how comfortable Bart is revealing any of his true self to those he cares about. Maybe his relationship with Ed will be the thing that finally helps him find comfort in being himself, whilst also trusting others to still accept him as himself... and maybe getting him that bit of therapy he really needs.

This brings us to Eduardo… First, can I just say it made me so happy to see Greg’s confirmation of Ed being gay - though it is slightly annoying that he was robbed of his explicit onscreen reveal in S3 thanks to the drama with Bart. His whole relationship to his powers in S2 to S3 fits the representation of coming to terms with your sexuality/identity from a very negative point of view. Feeling like it’s something that needs fixing or needs to be “cured” - to then finding the light and freedom in accepting yourself for you. His growth between seasons is brilliant. He understands the hate and insecurity the teens are feeling because he felt it himself. He does all he can to help them because he never felt he got that help when he needed it - and no one deserves to feel worse for being who they are. Obviously, the things he talks about are framed in the context of dealing with/accepting the meta-gene - yet there are certain moments where it seems he’s saying more than that…

All of which got me wondering - why did Ed originally runaway? It certainly wasn’t because of the meta-abilities he did not yet have. All he’s ever said on the subject was he thought he wanted to be with his father - the man it seems he barely had a relationship with. No, I think Ed has been running from himself for a long time and his dad just happened to be an actual direction for him to aim for. The way he speaks about his wanting to be “cured” and “praying to get rid of his powers” suggests an upbringing around religion and traditional ideas of there being a ‘normal/proper’ way to be — while anything that doesn’t fit that way is treated as other or something that needs to be changed or 'fixed'. Maybe he ran to avoid being found out and run the risk of being ostracised by those he loved. Or maybe he was found out and leaving wasn’t entirely his choice*. If this was the case, I can certainly imagine him not wanting to come out to his dad for fear of his reaction and completely losing all chance of that father-son relationship they’re both trying so hard to keep. It can seem easier to live in secret than risk the reality of loss. So while the meta-gene likely wasn’t the main thing he was angry about in S2, it was able to become a physical thing he could blame and focus his anger on - without having to think about where his issues truly lied… Though with a bit of time it also became the thing he was comfortable conveying his feelings through...

“I’ve learned to accept, even love my meta-abilities”

I love this line so much and it’s all because of the delivery by Freddy Rodrigues. There is the slightest hint of a pause before he says “meta-abilities”, which gives the impression he was about to say something else before then remembering himself and who he was talking to. Then there’s the small inflecion he put on “love”, which makes it sound like it’s the first time he’s heard himself say the words out loud. I don’t hear him talking about the gene - I hear him talking about finally accepting himself - all of himself - for the first time in maybe ever and finally feeling happy because of it. I hear growth... From being the angry 14-year-old skater who just wanted to run away and escape any way he could. To the 16-year-old councillor/Outsider jumping straight into the danger to protect and inspire those who need it. Both he and Bart are such strong characters with so much more to be seen - especially when it comes to the insecurities which lie behind their masks. They both compliment each other pretty perfectly - both powers-wise and personality-wise - meaning while they try to hide themself from others, I don't think it'll take long for them to realise they can't hide from each other.

Anywho, that’s all the speculatary nonsense I’ve got for today. This turned into such a patchwork of vaguely linkable thoughts I’ve had which barely relate to the one I started with - but that is usually how it goes. Take it as you will…

Also, completely unrelated to YJ, but Bi Tim Drake now exists in dc canon which is really cool - seeing all of the joy it’s sparked has really given me something to smile about this week… There is hope after all. 🌈

— LB ⚡️☀��

* OK so here’s a little random snapshot into the chaos of my mind— as I was writing the Ed stuff I had a scene pop into my head of Ed finally -for whatever reason- having to tell his dad that he didn’t leave his abuelo’s home - he got kicked out. His dads confused about this and asks Why? What did you do? And Ed’s like Nothing… I didn’t do anything wrong… he just… found out something. So Seniors like Found out what Eduardo? And Ed’s getting really nervous now because he doesn’t want to say it - That I, um… I’m… Senior step a fraction closer as he picks up on Ed’s anxiety but remains an appropriate distance - Son? Then after a tensening silence he finally says it - sounding the most vulnerable he has ever been - I’m gay… The silence is there again, heavy and unnerving, neither saying a word. Ed can’t move as he’s lock in his elders unreadable glare. Expecting the worse his head drops to take in the floor - anything that isn’t the disappointment ahead - he feels the urge to disappear burning up inside him - consuming him. Then just as he’s about to escape he’s suddenly grounded by a steadying hand rooting itself on his shoulder. Tentatively he lifts his gaze to witness his father, there, with nothing but love and support in his eyes - Mijo. The clamping in his chest dissipates as all the tension escapes at once, along with the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Ed embraces his dad and the elder embraces his son. Together. A family.

Anyway. That’s probably a load of rubbish but hey my minds full of it… but basically I really want to see a tender moment between Ed and his dad. For whatever reason. Something where Ed’s in a vulnerable state and in need of some emotional support from his father - and without hesitation his father steps up - because that’s what we haven’t seen from them yet. It would perfectly portray the strength of their relationship as father and son - despite their previous struggles - and prove that Senior is willing to support his son no matter the situation as the father - not just the scientist. Its the final step in their healing journey and I wanna see it so bad!!

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readyourimgaines · 5 years

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The One Where Chandler and Joey Come Out

Reposting because I accidently deleted it when pressing the wrong button and also because I’m petty want to make it show up on an idiot’s dash again. -Freddie

“No.”

“Chan, come on. It’s been almost four months, we should tell them sooner than later,” Joey tried to persuade his boyfriend.

“No. No. No. Joey, I love you, but I can’t tell. Not yet.”

“And why not, huh?” Joey tossed the spoon in his into the empty tomato sauce can.

“I can admit to you that I’m like my dad. I can do that. But telling everyone else that I’m like him-” Chandler’s face lost all colour when what he said sunk in. “I-I’m not ashamed of being with you, I promise.”

“I knew what you meant,” Joey dismissed. “Look, I’m still trying to get used to this ‘bisexual’ idea, alright? It’s weird. I didn’t know you could like both but here I am.” Joey added a little bit of salt to the noodles he had on the stove. “I just feel like we should tell the guys. They tell us everything.”

Chandler sighed from where he sat on the other side of the kitchen and burrowed his hands in his hair. “We have to do this, don’t we?”

“They’d appreciate it.” Joey nodded.

Chandler didn’t move for a little bit, his mind racing with what their reactions might be. Ross bordered on homophobic because of Carol and Susan. Monica, personally, wouldn't mind and he knew that if Ross stopped hanging out with Joey and him then so would Monica and there goes Rachel. The only one that he thought wouldn’t care at all- even support them- was Phoebe.

Chandler was pulled from his racing thoughts by Joey gently kissing his lips. “You okay in there?” Joey asked, tilting his head slightly.

“That’s yet to be decided.” Chandler sighed again and leaned forward slightly so their foreheads touched, his blue-green eyes looking into Joey’s chocolate ones. “You really think we should tell them?”

“I really think we should tell ‘em.”

“Then we’ll tell them.”

***

“Anything planned for tonight?” Rachel asked the group.

“Not really.” “My date cancelled.” “No.” Came the scattered answers of Ross, Monica, and Phoebe.

“Well, we’ve gotta do something; I don’t work tonight.”

Chandler and Joey looked at each other and Joey nodded. Chandler adjusted how he was sitting on the armrest of the chair Joey occupied and tightly held his boyfriend’s hand behind his back. “Uh-” he cleared his throat, “Joey and I got something we can do.”

“Yeah?” Phoebe asked with a slowly growing smile, getting a feeling for what was about to happen. “What’s that?”

“There’s something we should tell you guys and we’ve been tossing the idea around for a couple days, actually.”

“Oh god, one of you is moving!” Phoebe clasped her hands over her mouth in mock shock. She wasn’t as dumb as they all thought and she’d known about the two since before they themselves did.

“No, no, we ain’t moving.” Joey dismissed.

“So, you guys know how everyone thinks I’m gay because I have that certain ‘quality’ to me?” Chandler asked. He got a scattered and murmured answer of yes. “Well, I don’t know about the ‘quality’ but they’re not wrong on the gay part.” He cast his eyes down, scared of their reactions.

“Wait, so you’re really gay?” Rachel asked.

“Well he’d have to be to do half the stuff we’ve done,” Joey spoke up.

The group stared at them in shock. “You’re both gay?” Ross asked. Chandler stiffened, preparing himself.

“I am...Joey’s bi.”

“What?”

“Bi, ya know?” Joey went on. “Bisexual. I’m into girls and guys?”

“So you two are going out?” Monica asked, still processing.

“Yeah…” Chandler was still waiting for someone to blow up- mainly Ross- and compare him to his father.

“That’s awesome!” Phoebe clapped. “How long have you two been together?”

“Almost four months,” Chandler said slowly.

“Wait.” “Why didn’t you tell us?” Monica and Rachel spoke together.

“Well, we didn’t know how you were guys were going to react,” Joey said. “We’ve been debating tellin’ you guys since our one month but we were sorta on edge.”

“Why?” Monica asked. “It’s just us.”

“Yeah, but two dudes together ain’t exactly the norm,” Joey went on.

“You know we weren’t going to be upset.” Monica smiled kindly, putting a hand on each of their knees to bring them some sort of comfort. “In fact, I’m going to make Chandler’s favorite dinner and Joey’s favorite dessert to celebrate.”

Ross had yet to say anything and was still staring at the floor. Chandler was starting to get antsy at his friend’s silence and Joey noticed. “Chan?” he whispered under Rachel, Monica, and Phoebe’s excited chatter. “You okay?”

“What? Yeah.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to judge that.” Chandler spoke. He was waiting for Ross to do something. “Damn I could use a smoke right now.”

“No, no. Ya don’t need a smoke.” Joey gently ran his hand through Chandler’s hair and smiled lightly when his boyfriend tilted his head into the touch. “Wanna take a walk? Go around a block or two so you can get some air?”

Chandler considered. “That sounds nice. We can pick up something for dinner so it’s useful.”

“We can do that. Sure.” Joey turned a bit on looked into the kitchen where Monica was already working on the lasagna. “Hey Mon?”

“What’s up?”

“Do you need anything from the store? Chandler and me can go get it.”

“Uh...I’m working on the sauce right now...uh… Oh! I don’t have cottage cheese. You sure you guys are okay getting it?”

“Yeah. We’re big boys now, Mon,” Chandler piped up with his usual defensive humor.

“Alright, well thank you.”

“Not a problem.” Joey smiled as he and Chandler stood up from their chair. “We’ll be back in fif-” Chandler shook his head a little and mouthed twenty. -”twenty minutes.”

“See you guys.” “Bye.” Came the voices of Phoebe and Rachel. The boys waved over their shoulders as they walked out the door holding hands. Chandler closed the door behind him and the second the door was closed Rachel whacked the back of Ross’s head.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Why haven’t you said anything? You’re scaring the hell out of Chandler.” Rachel folded her arms across her chest as she looked at the black haired doctor.

“Well I’m sorry if I’m a little uneasy with two of my best friends coming out as gay right after my ex-wife gets married to her lesbian lover,” Ross retorted.

“Well you should be.” Phoebe agreed with Rachel. “It took a lot of courage for them to tell us and then you go and act like this. They’re trusting us with a very important part of themselves.”

“Yeah. Besides, I think it’s sweet. I mean, how did we never notice it before?” Monica asked from where she was stirring a pot of tomato sauce on the stove. “They’re always hanging off each other or touching each other in some way.”

“Joey kissed Chandler on New Years two years in a row,” Phoebe added.

“Chandler blowing through girlfriends like a little kid with bubbles.” Rachel added. “He even stopped trying to correct us when we teased him about the whole quality thing.”

“You guys have never heard them doing anything?” Ross asked.

“No.” Monica said simply. “I just- they’re two of our closest friends. How could we have missed this?”

“Well, it’s not exactly in the norm yet.” Phoebe said. “Girls can be all cuddly with each other; you and Ross get cuddly; I just thought they were being friends.”

***

“He hates me.” Chandler said as he walked side by side with Joey still holding hands. “We never should have said anything.”

“Hey, hey. He doesn’t hate you, he’s just Ross. He’ll come around,” Joey promised. “Don’t worry so much, Chan.”

“I-I- we shouldn’t have said anything a month after his ex-wife gets married to a woman. We the hell were thinking?” Chandler ran his free hand through his hair.

“Remember what Ross told Carol when she an’ Susan almost called off their wedding? We didn’t tell ‘em for them. We told ‘em for us. We’re gonna be happy together whether or not Ross is happy for us, m’kay? And hey, I hate to say it- actually, I don’t. If Ross stops hangin’ out with us because we’re together then he’s not who I thought he was and I think we’d be better off without ‘im.” Joey finished his rant and brought their hands to his mouth, kissing their intertwined knuckles. “I love you, Chandler. And I ain’t gonna stop lovin’ you for anyone.”

“I love you too, Joey.” Chandler pecked his cheek.

***

“We’re back.” Chandler announced as he opened the door, feeling much better about things than he was before.

“Hey uh, guys...” Ross stood from where he was sitting at the kitchen table and tried to quickly word things in his mind before speaking them aloud. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for earlier. I just...I wasn’t expecting this and I shouldn’t have been so aloof with it. I want you guys to know that I don’t care that you guys are- I mean- I uh, I do care. I just- I’m not upset that you two are together. I promise. I just have to get used the fact that Carol and Susan aren’t the only gay people in the world and that anyone can be gay.”

Chandler was beaming by the time Ross stopped talking. He gave Ross a tight hug and Ross wasted no time in returning it. “It means a lot to hear that. I know we could have picked a better time, with Carol and Susan getting married and all-”

“No, no. This is on me, not on you guys. Rach had a good point. I shouldn’t be supporting my ex-wife but leaving my friends out to hang. She’s right and I was right when I told Carol that what other people think of your relationship doesn't matter. You aren’t together for them, you’re together for each other.”

“Anyway,” Phoebe jumped in, “how did you know you were gay?”

“I uh...I was in denial for a long time,” Chandler said. “I guess I’ve known since high school, I just didn’t want to admit it…”

“Remember two years ago when I kissed Chandler on New Years?” Joey got a chorus of conformations. “Yeah. Since then.”

“So… does the sex feel different?” Ross asked slowly.

“Depends on the act, I guess…” Chandler shrugged.

“Like, if ya goin’ in, it ain’t too different,” Joey started. Chandler was already red faced and hiding his face against Joey’s shoulder blade. “But the hand stuff is waaay better ‘cause ya both actually know what you’re doin’.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” Phoebe nodded.

“Can we please discuss anything el-”

“So who’s on top? How does that work?” Rachel asked. “‘Cause Chandler’s taller than you, but your personality is more commanding.”

Chandler figured if his face got any more red it melt. “We just go for it.” He muttered.

“We flipped a coin once.” Joey reminded him.

“Have you guys told your families?” Monica asked trying to save Chandler from becoming any more embarrassed.

“My family knows an’ they don’t mind too much.” Joey nodded.

“I haven’t said anything yet,” Chandler said. He traded hiding his face behind Joey to hugging the slightly shorter man from behind. “I don’t really plan to… I mean, if my mom finds out she does but I don’t plan on telling her.”

“But so we’re all good ‘ere?” Joey checked.

“All good.” Phoebe answered for the group.

#read your imagines #snafu and freddie's imagine shoppe #friends #chandler bing #joey tribiani #chanoey

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freddiesaysalright · 5 years

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My Man Part VI

A Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She met Roger Taylor when he brought his date backstage. They didn’t start off great, but a party at Freddie’s turned them around. Now, they’re friends. After she was attacked by a director, Roger is there for her. Then she gets a surprise visitor with some wise words for her.

Word Count: 2.6K

Tag List: @bohemian-war @kittygirlno @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @rockyroadthepastryarchy @goodoldfashionedloverboyy @jennyggggrrr @discodeacygotmorerhythm @x1975sos @slytherinxval @cyndagoaway @doingalrightt @lovvliies @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing @capsparrowtara @they-call-me-peaches @hyosong @riddikuluslypotter @orchideax If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

Part VI here we go!!!

You spent the next few days at home, recovering. Roger stayed with you all the time, leaving only for band stuff and to shower and change. You thought about telling him he could bring some things over, but you weren’t sure what kind of message that sent.

It was Roger who told you that you absolutely could not go back to work. You agreed only because there wasn’t enough makeup to cover the bruise around your eye. You also couldn’t bear the thought of performing “You Are Woman, I Am Man.” It made your stomach clench to even think about. You gave Gary the excuse that you were ill, and he bought it.

Three days after your assault, you were relaxing with Roger on your couch. You were reading your old copy of Jane Eyre, while he dozed beside you, his arm draped lazily across your shoulders. You’d always loved Jane Eyre. When times were hard, you read her story again. You told yourself that if she could overcome the things she did, you could overcome the trials of your own life.

As you read, you came across a line that struck your heart in a new way: “I had not intended to love him; the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously revived, great and strong! He made me love him without looking at me.”

You stopped. Closing the book, you glanced at Roger. He looked at peace as he slept, even with his head back and mouth slightly agape. You watched his chest rise and fall with each breath and remembered when you first met. He was acting so arrogant and you were so annoyed. Now he was at your side in the most dire situation you’d ever faced. How could this have happened? You, who were so sure you would never love again after losing George, were falling in love with Roger Taylor?

He didn’t even really look the same to you. Before - and perhaps still to others - he was the great Roger Taylor, drummer for Queen and womanizer extraordinaire. Now, he was just Roger, who held you close and punched your agent and slept on a lumpy sofa for you. Roger, who was talented and smart and passionate. Roger, a man you respected. A man you loved.

But what could ever come of it? He was also your best friend. Had his feelings changed? Had they ripened into this exciting and painful extra emotion? You weren’t even sure if you wanted an answer.

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. Roger shook awake and met your eyes. His sleepy face could have melted all the snow in Siberia. Your heart skipped a beat.

“You wanna get that or should I?” he asked, smirking.

You smiled. “I’ll get it.”

You padded over to the door and peered through the peephole. With a gasp and a cry of delight, you yanked the door open and threw your arms around the visitor.

“Jack!” you cried. “Oh my God!”

He laughed and spun you around. When he put you down, you saw Roger at the door. He looked between you and Jack and frowned.

“Roger,” you said. “This is my brother, Jack. Jack, this is Roger Taylor.”

Roger’s face immediately shifted and he smiled. “Oh, nice to meet you.”

He held out his hand and Jack shook it.

“So it’s true,” he said in almost a whisper.

“What’s true?” you asked.

Jack held up a copy of the issue of In Tune about you and Roger. “You’re doing it with the drummer of Queen!” He pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing the top of your head to mess up your hair as much as possible. “I’ve never been so proud of you!”

Roger looked away, grinning like an idiot.

“Get bent!” you laughed, shoving him off. “He’s just a friend.” You felt like you were lying as you said this. “Come inside, will you?”

Jack followed you into the flat, clapping Roger on the shoulder. Roger closed the door behind you. At last, Jack took in your face.

“You look like shit,” he said, playfully.

“Shut up,” you returned, rolling your eyes. “It doesn’t help that you just ruined my perfectly sloppy ponytail.”

“Did you get into another fight?” he asked.

“I’m sorry - another fight?” Roger interjected.

“She had an eventful youth,” Jack said.

Roger raised his eyebrows at you. You ignored him.

“Jack, what are you even doing here?” you wondered. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled, but it’s such a long trip.”

“Dear Mother and Father sent me after some of their English connections saw the magazine,” he explained, waving it around again. “I’m supposed to set you straight.”

“What does that mean?” Roger asked.

“It usually means she and I get drunk together and then I lie to our parents about it,” Jack told him. “I was kinda iffy about this one but it was a free trip to London, so I thought - what the hell, I wanna see her show anyway.”

“I haven’t been in the show for a couple days,” you said solemnly. “Bruises look especially bad under stage lights.”

“You’re going to have to explain that,” he replied. “Do I have to beat someone up?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I once tackled you to the ground and made you eat dirt.”

“So?” he returned. “I was like twelve.”

“I was twelve,” you corrected. “You were seventeen.”

Roger snorted and you looked smugly at your brother.

“You know what, that’s fair,” Jack admitted. “But I do still need to know what happened to you.”

You looked down. “Just a really shitty director.”

“Did he try to casting couch you?” he wondered.

You could only nod. Jack pulled you close. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” He kissed you on the head. “I love you so much and if I were as strong as you, I’d tackle that asshole to the ground and make him eat dirt.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you clutched his shirt and chuckled. “You’re an idiot and I love you.”

Roger looked at the pair of you incredulously. “You two are giving me emotional whiplash.”

“Sorry, Roger,” you said.

“Oh, are you on a first name basis?” Jack teased, letting you go.

You looked at him and it hit you all of a sudden that you hadn’t called Roger “Mr. Taylor” since Mark’s attack on you. It just came so naturally now.

“It’s a recent development,” Roger said. “I’ve been begging her to stop with the ‘Mr. Taylor’ but she refused.”

“Some habits are hard to unlearn,” Jack said. “But I’m glad she’s opening up.”

The corners of Roger’s mouth turned up, but stopped when he looked at the clock.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, looking at you. “Rehearsal. I’ll come back after, yeah?”

“Please do,” you replied.

He grabbed his things, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and left with a final wave.

“See ya, Roger,” you called.

“Great to meet you!” Jack added as the door closed softly behind Roger.

Jack whipped around and looked expectantly at you.

“What?” you asked, more defensive than you meant to sound.

“You love him,” he said.

“Of course I do, he’s my best friend,” you answered, too quickly.

“You know damn well I meant you’re in love with him,” he said. “Like wanna marry him, fuck his brains out, and have his babies.”

“Jack!”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong.”

You looked deliberately away from him, biting your lip.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “So why aren’t you with him?”

“There’s a lot that goes into answering that,” you began. “You know me. I over-analyze every part of what I’m feeling until I’m ready to explode.”

“Break it down.”

“I still feel guilty about moving on from George.”

“Okay. And?”

“Roger and I are such good friends, I’m worried if I tell him how I feel, he’ll reject me and I’ll lose him.”

“And?”

“I’m still feeling weird about being touched after being groped by that director.”

“And?”

“That’s it,” you said.

“Liar,” he accused.

Glowering at him, you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s true.”

“There’s something else.”

You groaned.

“Just tell me!” he insisted.

“I’m…” you trailed off, unsure how to word it. “I’m afraid that I...I won’t be able to please him...y’know...in that way.”

“Are you serious?” Jack returned.

“Yes!” you cried. “I’ve been with one person ever in my life, and I was married to him. Roger Taylor has been with - I dunno - every woman in London. And you should see the women he takes out, Jack. They’re head-turningly beautiful women.”

“Well, according to this bullshit magazine, he hasn’t been out with anyone since you eloped,” he said.

“We haven’t eloped,” you said.

“Anyway,” he began. “I should tell you that your sexual prowess probably doesn’t matter to him. And you’re every bit as beautiful as any of the girls he’s dated.”

“You haven’t seen them.”

“I don’t need to. Remember my first trip home from college? I brought back my roommate and he fell in love with you?”

“What?” you returned.

“God, I was so pissed too because I was convinced he was gay. Then we were up late at night talking, and he said you were so beautiful and all this other crap until he fucking cried.”

You giggled. “I’m sorry I ruined that for you.”

“So yeah, you’re pretty, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed.

“And I do think Roger returns your feelings,” he continued. He held up the picture of you on the magazine. “I mean, look at his face here.”

You did. Roger was laughing as he looked at you in the photo. His arm was around your waist to have you near him. His eyes shone like the moon. Your expression was much the same.

“He looked like that every time he looked at you,” Jack said. “That’s how you look at the love of your life.”

Your face fell at those words.

“I know you feel guilty about George,” he said, not needing an explanation. “I loved him too and I know you risked everything for him. But he loved you so much. He’d never want you to stop living your life on his account.”

“I know,” you said.

“And honestly, I think he’d be damn proud of you for getting Roger Taylor,” he joked.

“I kinda think so too!”

You laughed together and for a moment you felt like you were a teenager again. Joking around with your big brother and the whole world ahead of you. You would never have guessed you would end up where you were.

“And as for the physical stuff after being hurt by that director,” he continued, serious now. “That’s just gonna take time. But I have a feeling that whenever you’re ready, Roger’s gonna be there for you.”

“You got all of that just from the way he looks at me?” you asked.

“It says a lot,” he said with a shrug.

“Thanks, Jack,” you replied. “I’m so glad you’re here to listen to my crazy.”

“What are gay big brothers for?”

When Roger returned that evening, you were nursing a glass of wine. You and Jack had killed a bottle while catching up before he returned to his hotel room. Now, you were back to your book. Roger smiled as he entered your living room.

“Hey,” he said. “Your brother clear off?”

“He went to his hotel room,” you said. “But he’s gonna be here for a week at least. He wants to see me in the show before he goes.”

“Are you ready for that?” he wondered, taking a seat.

You draped your legs across his lap. He gave them a gentle pat with his warm hands.

“I think I will be,” you assured him. “Nothing lifts my spirits like being on stage.”

“I admire your resilience,” he said.

You stared at him for a moment while he toyed with the fluff on your socks. You were suddenly overcome with affection for him. You smiled to yourself, and resumed comfortable silence. Roger did eventually get up to pour himself a glass of wine and then switched on the TV. You loved just existing in the same room with him.

That night, you awoke from a deep sleep from the noises in the living room. Thinking Roger had just left the TV on, you got up and headed out to switch it off. When you emerged from your bedroom, you were horrified to see the noises were coming from Roger. He was moaning, covered in sweat, and thrashing on the couch. You recognized this from the nights when George was home from Vietnam. Roger was having a nightmare. A PTSD nightmare.

You flew to his side, calling his name softly so you wouldn’t startle him. You pressed your hand onto his shoulder, and you felt how clammy his skin was. Gently, you rubbed up and down his arm until his movements slowed. He twitched away from you a few times, and you would back off for a moment before trying again.

“Roger,” you said, a little louder now.

His eyes snapped open, and he looked at you. For a split second, he moved away, as if he didn’t recognize you. Clarity swept over him and his hand shot toward you to cling to a bit of your nightgown. His chest heaved with his labored breathing, so you placed your hand over it. You could feel his heart pounding like a jackhammer.

“I’m here, Rog,” you said, cupping his face with your other hand. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

He tried to sit up, but you didn’t let him.

“Easy,” you soothed. “Just rest now, my darling.”

His breathing was still shallow, so you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

“Can you do this with me, Rog?” you requested. “Come on, deep breaths.”

He closed his eyes and followed your lead. You kept a hand on his chest to feel his pulse as you settled him. His grip on your clothing relaxed as well.

“Are you alright?” you asked, when he opened his eyes again.

“Yeah...just a stupid dream,” he muttered.

“It looked pretty serious to me,” you said.

“S’nothing,” he insisted.

You didn’t answer and you shifted your body so that you were laying beside him. Without prompting, he buried his face in the crook of your neck as he hooked an arm around your waist. You dragged your nails gently across his back and hummed absentmindedly.

“Sing something for me,” he said.

“What would you like to hear?” you asked.

“Anything,” he told you.

You cleared your throat and began the first song that came to mind.

“Somewhere over rainbow, way up high,” you began.

He pulled his head back and looked so intensely at you, it took your breath away.

“How’d you know?” he wondered.

“What?”

“That’s the song my mum…” he trailed off. “After my dad was...extra rough, I guess. She sang that for us.”

You realized that must have been what he was dreaming. You ached with sympathy.

“You want me to stop?” you offered.

“No,” he said, returning his head to your shoulder. “No, don’t stop.”

“There’s a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby…”

As you sang, you considered everything you discussed with Jack, and realized he was right. What you and Roger had was special. You cared about one another in a way that was deeper than bones. It was your souls that spoke to each other. The only thing left to know was who was going to act on it first.

If happy little bluebirds fly

Beyond the rainbow

Why, oh why can’t I?

#queen #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #ben!roger x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben!roger taylor #ben!roger imagine #roger taylor imagine #queen imagine #queen fanfic #brian may #gwilym lee #john deacon #joe mazzello #freddie mercury #rami malek

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ask-rogertaylor · 6 years

Text

((Here’s another fic. This time the story of when Roger first realised he had feelings for Brian and also had his first gay crisis—and then that one time they kissed and roger freaked the fuck out. This started as a ficlet but I’m sappy and can’t write my thoughts in a concise way .. so have pining sad roger ,, the ending is kinda sad ,, but just keep in mind that Rog and Bri end up together eventually!! Featuring @ask-brian-may and @ask-rogerina! It also has John, Jo, Freddie, Jamie and Melina very briefly!!))

Roger feels light.

It’s the buzz of the alcohol. It’s why he likes the stuff so much. Roger feels heavy most of the time. He doesn’t talk about it, and nobody really knows about it, so he relieves himself of that burden as often as he can. Because feeling light is a relief.

His head is also pretty light. Nothing really seems to be in focus right now. He doesn’t even think he’s moving himself, it’s mostly Brian dragging and guiding him along up the pathway leading into his and Rogerina’s place. The hand Brian has supporting Roger’s waist is very warm, but also cooling in a weird sense Roger can’t explain.

“M’sorry,” Roger slurs, he’s embarrassed, a little. Brian shouldn’t have to be dealing with the consequences of his shitty coping mechanism.

Brian smiles softly, “For what, Rog?

“This. I reek, I’m a mess, and you should be at home right now,” Roger explains, taking in the sweet scent of Brian’s cologne. He really is a stark contrast in comparison to Brian in this moment.

“Rog. I like being with you. Besides, you were right, I did need an excuse to show off my new clogs tonight,” Brian chuckles lightheartedly, but the smile he gives him is genuine and true. Roger can’t help but smile back. He probably looks goofy in his woozy state, but he can’t help himself.

“I had a fun night, Rog. Don’t worry about it. It’s actually kinda funny to see you like this. More blackmail material for me. I would ask you if you had one too, but I can tell you did,” Brian jokes.

Roger let’s out a hybrid of a giggle and a chortle, far too pleased for his own good. Brian makes him feel like he’s on a constant high. He likes being around Brian. He just knows with Brian. He knows this is a companion he’s made for life. And he’s happy to have him in his life.

He looks up at Brian, in this astounding stolen moment. He can see his profile, beautifully framed and lit by the soft moonlight above them. His eyes are warm. His skin is soft. Then he looks over at Roger with the kindest smile and his eyes twinkle with this softness and watchfulness. Roger thanks the universe, and he knows he’s on borrowed time, and yet the universe gave him this one spectacular moment, and he praises it.

And everything else seems to fade and all Roger can see is Brian.

His vision hazes into this rose colour. Flowers are blooming. His heart starts to race. He feels chilled but also very warm. There’s a ringing in his ears. He feels increasingly light. He feels like he’s falling.

Brian knocks gently on the door, and Rogerina opens up within a minute.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Rogi, but your idiot brother here forgot his keys and uh..is slightly..very intoxicated,” Brian explains sheepishly.

She smiles amusedly at her own brother, “That’s alright, darling. I wasn’t asleep anyway. C’mon in, I would help you, but he’s gross.”

Roger flips her off—at least tries to, he’s far too drowsy to actually recognise if he has or not.

Brian dumps him onto the seat by the window, a chuckle escaping him as Roger flopped down like some rag doll. He shook his head and tutted fondly.

“..Well..I mustn’t stay too long. It is late. ..so uh..just—“

“—aspirin and a glass of water by his bed. Make sure he falls asleep on his side. A bucket too. Which is super gross to think about,” Rogerina grimaces.

“You’re a dear, Rogi. You really are. Well..goodbye, see you soon,” Brian announces, but looks over at Roger and comes closer to him, so they are at eye level. He rests a hand on his shoulder, and it’s warm. It also tingles. Roger smiles sloppily at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Rog. Sleep well,” Brian says sweetly, his eyes warm and inviting. It makes Roger feel at home.

Roger watches him as he leaves, and he shifts over to watch the window, his eyes following him as he fades away into the night. When he walks it’s like he leaves a trail of stardust behind him. He’s absolutely magical and Roger can’t keep his eyes off of him. He takes his breath away.

He doesn’t even notice the stupid smile on his face.

“Jesus, you’re like in love with him,” Rogerina jokes casually, as she picks up the coat he’s dropped on the ground and hangs it up on the rack.

Roger’s heart drops and his chest is cold. He feels so heavy and his ears are ringing. The pulsating in his heart gets louder and louder and his hands are clammy and he feels absolutely empty. He doesn’t even remember where he is anymore.

Fuck, he’s in love with Brian.

It’s a sinking feeling that pulls him down to the ground. It takes him over almost completely.

Roger’s scarily light. He pushes himself to his feet, and he stumbles, the world is collapsing in on him and he can’t breathe.

As he ravages up the stairs like he struggling through some sort of rainforest, he feels his heart rate begin to pick up as his head pounds and the lights start to flicker and the ringing of his ears gets too much, he’s so light, so light, until he’s so heavy and he’s falling against his bed and he’s sobbing. He’s crying so hard and he can’t even contain himself, he’s completely lost control, the image of himself he has carefully created for the world to see crumbles into dust. Just like that.

He cries and he cries because he is not meant to feel like this. This wasn’t allowed. His father would be so angry if he found out he had fallen in love with a man. He cries because he knows he cannot possibly have Brian. It hurts so much and it feels like he’s on fire and he doesn’t know how to put it out.

He tries to quiet himself down, stifle the sounds into the fabric of his pillow, for the sake of his sister. Even now he doesn’t want to bother her, not when this is a struggle he should be going through alone.

But his sister would follow him anywhere, and he hears his door creak open. He tries his absolute hardest to silence him.

“..Rog..” Rogerina coos at him gently.

He makes a folly attempt to appear asleep, but a pathetic sniffle ruins his endeavor.

She sighs and hops onto his bed, and lays next to him, and pulls him close for a hug, and it’s just that push for the dam to break.

“I.. love him,” Roger sobs violently into her chest, shrinking into her hold on him to try and make himself as small as he feels. He grabs on to her like a lifeline, shaking ferociously, in fear that if he lets go he’ll never stop falling.

Rogerina offers him a sad smile, “I know. And it’s okay. It’s okay, Rog, it’s okay to feel like this.”

“But it’s not,” He whimpers.

“It is, it absolutely is, Rog — it’s just love. It’s just love.”

Roger doesn’t say anything at that, and merely moves in closer, “I’m scared.”

“I know. And I’m here. I understand,” She whispers quietly.

She doesn’t leave him for a second that night.

Months later, maybe, and Roger is still falling.

It still feels sickeningly light to the stomach at times, and sometimes it makes his heart throb, but he’s learned to numb it and push it to the back of his mind where everything else is. He’s learned to control himself, and he’s painstakingly build up these walls around himself to keep himself from hurting too bad.

But there are still these moments where Brian makes it so difficult. Where he unknowingly swings a hammer and chips down at the walls he’s built for himself.

Moments like today.

Brian looks at the skies above and watches the stars shine.

Roger looks at his own star. But he’s on the ground with him.

They’re both buzzing. They’ve both had one too many. They’re piss drunk. It’s cold outside but they’re both still too warm.

He takes a long drag of the cigarette he’s smoking, and he’s surprisingly silent. He’s not like this. He’s loud and talkative but with Brian he just wants to soak everything in. When it’s all he can get.

“Look, I can see the corvus constellation..” Brian says softly, and when he speaks his eyes are so full of light and there’s that dumb smile of his and Roger can’t help his own smile.

He looks at him longingly. God how he wants him. Roger shifts uncomfortably, knowing full well that he’s just torturing himself, but how addictive the pain was.

But theres something that draws him to Brian. The whole universe is telling him to do this, like his destiny calls for it. And he knows it’s impossible. It’s not possible, they are too different on a molecular level. This is not how the story goes.

But when Brian turns over to look at him his eyes are so warm and those lips look so inviting, Roger collides with him and suddenly a star is born.

A whole new plane of existence opens up, and Roger feels like he’s exploring a whole new galaxy, everything is so exciting and so beautiful and he watches as planets collide and leave spacedust in its wake. Brian’s lips against his feel like they were always meant to be there, and he feels limitless.

But when he pulls away he is crushed by the gravity of what has happened, and it breaks his soul once he’s realises what he’s done. He has made a horrible landing back to reality and once he’s experienced the magic he just has everything is so much worse now.

Roger can’t breathe, “Bri.. I’m sorry, I—“

He can’t read Brian at all.

“I.. I need to go,” Roger says hurriedly, pushing himself off of his feet.

“Wait, Rog—“ Brian tries, only now returning to reality.

But Roger’s too far gone; and he runs like he’s never ran before. He doesn’t know where he’s going but at this stage he doesn’t care, he just can’t face him anymore, and in his drunken stupor he’s completely aimless.

All he can feel is the adrenaline pumping through his system and then suddenly he’s stuck.

And he just cries.

Until he hears a familiar voice.

“..Roger..?”

Jamie examines him, “..What are you.. doing.. in my rose bush?”

“I kissed Brian,” Roger slurs, still sobbing incoherently.

“Oh, sweetheart..” She coos softly.

“Who the hell is that in our rose bush?” Melina asks.

“A dumbass,” Roger sobs.

The two women help him release himself from the tangles of the bush, and once that’s done they drag him into their house, where they promptly drop him onto their couch.

“I’m sorry,” He cries pathetically.

Jamie smiles sympathetically, taking a seat next to him, “It’s okay.. darling.. just.. try and rest, okay?”

And the two of them talk to him for hours until he passes out.

Roger can’t face reality anymore. Everything’s too broken. Everything’s in ruins.

He tells Freddie over text that he’s caught the flu, and that he would just be complaining about Roger’s constant display of symptoms, and that he really doesn’t want to hear Freddie’s yapping. He tells John over the phone to not come visit him, because he doesn’t want his favourite bass player catching this too. And when Johanna tries and visits, he puts on a smile and tells her that he’s fine, that he just needs to get some sleep and he’ll be better soon.

But he doesn’t talk to Brian at all.

He doesn’t talk to him for three days.

He ignores all of his texts. There are hundreds of them at this stage and he doesn’t open one. And all of his calls. He ignores every single one. He ignores his worried knocking at the door, and the stones being thrown at his window. He locks the door when Rogerina lets Brian into the house. He just can’t face him. It’s too hard. It hurts too much.

He can’t even get out of bed.

And eventually he does attempt conversation with Brian again. But it’s empty and almost robotic. It’s rehearsed and emotionless. It’s like they’re complete strangers. Everything is worse now and Roger wishes it could return to how it used to be but he’s ruined it all. It’s just not the same.

He can’t face the music.

*** “God, Roggie — you’re in that jumper,” Rogerina sighs deeply.

Roger raises and eyebrow unamusedly, he’s wearing his glasses for once, gesturing towards a clearly well worn grey The Who jumper, which is also miles too large for him, “This? And? Your problem?”

Rogerina looks exasperated, “You always wear that when you’re sad and recluse. Last time you had that thing on you didn’t leave the house for a week! And last time you didn’t have friends.”

Roger is clearly unamused at that.

“Oh, come on, I’m being honest! Take it off and put on some jeans, get out of the house! And eat something, please! Talk to Brian! Fuck, talk to anyone! Just.. get out of here, okay?”

Roger is clearly unaffected by her pleads and merely sits himself on the kitchen table, looking completely null and void.

She softens, sighing and sitting herself next to him. He looks completely miserable. There’s no light in his usually sparkling eyes, he’s a ghostly pale, and he’s clearly been crying, and his hair is a mess. He’s such a stark contrast to the bubbly and energetic Roger that she’s grown to know.

She takes his hands in hers, wrapping her fingers around his, firmly, but in a way that shows that she isn’t letting him go. She strokes his hands gently. Her gaze is just as firm, and watchful, her focus is all on him. He struggles to look at her.

“..Roger.. please, love.. I know you’re hurting. And it breaks my heart, and if you really can’t have Brian.. would you really rather not have him in your life at all..? Is this worth completely losing him, dear? Because I don’t think it is. Do you remember who you were before you met him?”

Roger blinks, and slowly removes his glasses as he feels tears well up in his eyes. He bites harshly on his lips to prevent the cascading of them, and thinks about it. He doesn’t like the man he was before Brian. In fact, he’s a distant memory, a memory he doesn’t quite want to return to.

Roger thinks about it. And when he tries to place himself in his own head from those years ago, he only remembers loneliness. And fear. And so much rage. So much hatred. He tries to pinpoint the moment those feelings had begun to fade away, and all he can hear in his fucking head is Brian talking about constellations.

He doesn’t even understand them. But the emptiness is replaced by a sense of wholesomeness. He spent his teenage nights with a fucking radio as his best friend, longing and wishing to all the deities out there to give him a best friend, someone who he knew he could tell anything to, someone he could just feel safe with. And he has it now. And Roger feels so dumb for not appreciating that enough. He’s come so far he’s forgotten where he’s come from.

God, he can’t lose Brian because a life without him is so empty. It’s so dark. And it’s cold. And Roger hates the winter.

He feels so selfish and so ashamed of himself in this moment, because how did he let himself become so greedy? Why was he wanting more, when Brian was more than he ever deserved to begin with, how did he let himself get so entitled? He’s forgotten his place, but fuck does it still hurt so, so much.

God, he wants him so bad. And he knows he can’t. But he can’t lose all of this over his own selfishness. He has to be better than that.

That’s enough, Roger. That’s enough now.

And is face crumples and he bursts into tears, unable to contain the pathetic noises he’s making, he tries to angle his face away from his sister, crying into his hands because dammit he’s still got his pride.

But she’s his darling sister and she sees past his bullshit and pulls him into her own touch, and holds him close, kissing him on the temples as he sobs his heart out.

“It’s alright, Rog.. it’s alright,” she tries to assure him as he cries into her chest.

“Fuck.. then why does it feel like nothing will be alright ever again?” He whimpers weakly. It feels like every star in the sky has been put out. It feels like someone has dismantled the sun and packed it away. He desperately wishes to return to a few days ago before he’s royally fucked up, but nothing is the same now. The walls have already caved in and he’s surrounded by its ruins. He can attempt and build over it but the damage has been done. History cannot be erased.

He wishes he could have tamed his heart. Told it to not yearn for what it can’t have. He doesn’t remember where he lost his way and thought that he could even have something this good. What was he expecting? He was not one of these people who got good things like this. He was born in filth. And he was to live in it. That good life was not made for him, and having had a taste of it has made the void hurt so much more because now he knows what he could have but cannot.

God dammit, Brian May, did you have to be an angel?

He exhales shakily. He’s terrified. But he’s not giving up on his band. They will not fail because he was too reckless with his own heart. The band will not suffer because Roger was too stupid to control himself. He couldn’t live with that. His hand lingers over the door knob, and he kicks himself once and lets himself through the door.

Roger can feel the air in the room shift once he enters through the door, all eyes are on him. He inhales shakily, a chilling, buzzing sensation spreading across his chest. He turns over to see his band mates, and in particular, Brian, who’s mouth is agape.

Roger pushes aside all thoughts in his head, and tries to relax, and he puts on a show, he puts on a mischievous grin, “..Jesus, Bri, shut your fucking piehole before a fly comes and chokes you.”

And while he still feels like every wall has caved in, trying to replicate his old self brings him a sense of familiarity that does put him at ease. He knows he’s performing, but it’s all he’s ever known, and it feels like home.

Roger watches the wave of relief wash over Brian’s eyes, and he likes to think the walls are rebuilding themselves.

And Brian smiles that beautiful smile of his where it’s like the sun has decided to shine just for him, and Brian’s glowing and Roger can’t help but bask in that warmth.

Yes, Roger’s heart is aching but Brian is too good to loose.

It was but a silly fantasy to ever believe that Brian could ever be his, god, no way, not him, Roger is not meant to live in a pretty palace amongst royalty. He belongs to the stables and he is grateful he is even able to serve such royalty. His story just isn’t written that way.

Having Brian in his life at all is enough. It has to be enough.

Roger is still plagued by the sickly bittersweet fairytale of love and the idea of having Brian’s hand to hold, and the thought crushes him, and fuck Roger is hurting.

But he’d rather hurt every day of his life than not have him at all. A life without him is so empty and that life would absolutely shatter him. There is a magnetic connection, a molecular bond that draws and pulls him to Brian May, and he knows it’s going to hurt him, but he’s okay with it. He needs him in his life or the balance of the universe will tip against him. He needs him.

He’ll have to settle. And he thinks he’s okay with that.

He’ll make do. He always does.

#roger taylor #brian may #maylor #john deacon #freddie mercury #queen

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hey-i-wrote-a-story · 7 years

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Chapter 4 Meeting Malia

Malia had come to enjoy her walks. Every so often she would slip away to enjoy a slow stroll along one of the series or trails that wove their way in and around one of the many wooded areas of Beacon Hills. It was an interesting experience for her, and each time she ventured out, she noticed something new. Having spent years running wild through the woods in the form of a coyote, to be now observing nature as a young woman was, as one might imagine, entirely different. The change in perspective alone was impressive. Having one’s point of view more than five feet above the ground as opposed to being close down to it in itself made everything seem new. Her pace was more relaxed, to be sure. She no longer had to be constantly wary of animal predators, for one thing. And instead of hunting feverishly for food, she could literally take time to stop and smell the flowers. Well, if she wanted to do that sort of thing. Her enhanced sense allowed her to take in the mixed scent of wildflowers and plant life without having to stop and lean in close. Rather than actively avoiding all human contact, Malia could smile at passersby and greet them with a pleasant hello, as…okay, some things still needed work. Malia was not exactly the “Howdy, neighbor!” kind of girl. Her social skills, while steadily improving, still could use a bit of polish. That was something else she enjoyed about nature; it didn’t require any social niceties to be appreciated. Unfortunately for the lovely Malia, she was going to have to engage in those niceties, or some facsimile thereof, very soon. Like right about now.

“Hey, How’s it goin’?”

A boy of approximately Malia’s age stepped out of the woods onto the trail to greet her. His movements were non-threatening, but they did seem a bit anxious. His smile was a bit too wide and eager, and he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. His face was sprinkled liberally with freckles and atop his head was a mass of fiery red hair. Had Malia been any other girl, she might have sensed a clumsy attempt at a pick-up line, and responded with a casual “Out enjoying a walk alone, thanks”, to drop the hint that she wasn’t interested. Or she could have simply responded with a smile and a terse “Not bad. You?” and sped up her pace. But of course, Malia was not any other girl.

“What happened to your hair?”

The already self-conscious boy froze. “My…wait, what?”

“It looks like a clown wig. Did it grow that way?”

The boy with the clown-colored follicles reached up and gingerly—no pun intended—touched his hair. “What? Yeah, this is my hair. I didn’t dye it or anything. It just comes out this way.”

Malia considered that. “Huh.” Then she continued walking.

The redheaded lad hurriedly took up pace behind her, walking briskly to catch up. It was clear he didn’t spend a lot of time hiking.

“I’m Freddie”, he offered.

“Okay.”

“Nice day for a walk, huh?”, he tried again.

“I already knew that”, Malia answered. “That’s why I’m out walking.”

“Yeah, and it’s a nice day for it, isn’t it?”

“We’ve established that.”

“So you’re Malia then, right?”

Malia stopped and turned to face the already winded ginger who was following her. “Who are you, anyway? We’ve never met. How do you know my name?”

Freddie stopped too, his expression that of someone who just realized he’d made a terrible faux pas. “Uhh…sure we did. Just now, back there. I said my name and you said okay, and then we were walking—“

Malia cut him off. “Stop following me.” With that, she turned away and briskly resumed her stroll.

Freddie rapped on both sides of his head with his knuckled and muttered to himself. “Gah! I suck at this. I suck at this! Why did they have to give me her? I am so out of my depth here. I have no idea what I’m do—“ He forcibly stopped his self-berating and said loudly, “You’re Stiles’ girlfriend, aren’t you?”

Malia turned on her heel without breaking stride and walked right up to Freddie and looked down on him. The redheaded boy wasn’t much shorter than Malia, but by now he was hunkering down in fear of the much more confident young woman.

“What”, Malia said, stressing the word, “do you want?”

“…um…”

“Well?”

“Uh, to say ‘Hi’?”

“You’ve said it, yet you’re still here.”

Freddie swallowed hard. “But…you are Stiles’ girlfriend, right? H-he’s your boyfriend?”

“Why should that—“, Malia began, but stopped as she noticed a change in Freddie’s demeanor. He began to straighten up, his eyes coming into sharp focus and his jaw going slack. Malia followed his eye and caught two joggers as they passed them. They were both boys of high school age, fit and good-looking, one with fair skin and one slightly darker. It was easy to notice their skin as they were both running shirtless. They nodded slightly as they passed the duo in the midst of their confrontation.

“S’cuze us.”

“Comin’ through.”

Freddie’s eyes stayed focused on the boys as they went by and continued down the trail. His gaze never wavered, and he never blinked. He had heard that just as this area was known for unexplained and supernatural occurrences, it was also well-known for an abundance of attractive young men. Turns out he had heard right. Once the two joggers had rounded a bend in the trail, Freddie finally blinked and looked back at Malia.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Malia looked back with eyes less accusatory. She was getting the drift of what was going on, here. “Oh, I get it.”

“You do?”, Freddie said, surprised.

“I know why you’re here”, Malia assured him. “What this is all about.”

“Really? How did you figure it out? I mean, so fast?”

“You don’t have to be a detective”, she began.

“Like Stiles!”, Freddie blurted out, then quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. He silently cursed himself. Malia shook her head.

“So you don’t care about me”, she stated, “You’re interested in Stiles.”

“Is…is it that obvious?”

“You’re not very good at hiding it. You might want to pick up your tongue. It’s still on the ground from when those joggers went by.”

Freddie put a hand over his eyes, mortified. “Ohhhh, I am such an idiot.”

“Probably”, Malia shrugged. “But you’re also gay and into Stiles. I’m right, aren’t I?”

From behind his covered face, Freddie nodded. Then he lifted his hand and said, “I was supposed to talk to you, though. Be friendly—“

“Right, right. So by being buddy-buddy with me, you could eventually get to meet Stiles and so on and whatever.” She stared at him directly, not giving him the chance to back out or improvise.

After a pregnant pause, he replied, “…yyeeeesss?”

Malia scratched her temple. Some people. “You were right in that I am his girlfriend. And he’s into girls, trust me.” She paused, considering. “Not that it would make any difference to me if he was into boys, too.” Then back on track, she reaffirmed, “But he is most definitely into girls.”

Freddie had nowhere to go with this. He wasn’t even in the ballpark of where he was supposed to be with Malia at this point. He wasn’t even near the parking lot. “Um. Okay, I guess.” He started to shuffle away, disheartened. “Sorry to have bothered you. I didn’t mean to—I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of—anyway, sorry. Bye.” Freddie turned fully around and moved like a man on his way to the guillotine. They are going to kill me, he thought. That’s it, I’m dead. Why do I always have to ruin everything??

“Wait a second.”

Freddie turned around to see Malia still standing there, hands on her hips. “You want to meet him?”

Freddie’s eyes lit up. “Can I?”

Malia rolled her eyes and continued her original path. She waved a hand half-heartedly. “Come on.”

“Yes!”, Freddie said, pumping his fists. “This is gonna be AWEsome!”

He dashed up to Malia and took up pace beside her. “Thanks a lot. He’s is just about the coolest—“

“Well, it’s not like I’m taking you right to him now. I’m finishing my walk first”, Malia said flatly.

“Sure, sure!”, gushed Freddie. “After that, if you have to go anywhere, I have a pickup truck, and I can give you ride—“

“And we’re finishing the walk in silence”, Malia said firmly.

Freddie shrank back a little. Softly, he whispered, “Right, right, yes. Sorry. I won’t say anything else. Won’t make a sound. You won’t even know I’m here—“

“Starting now”, Malia snapped.

Freddie made some kind of flighty gesture he no doubt that was apologetic and he drifted back a couple paces to tag along behind Malia without disturbing her. That was when Malia realized for the first time that there was something else that appealed to her about her hikes. The trees never tried to talk to you.

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