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hardforbenhardy · 5 years

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somebody to love pt.2 | rogerxreader

warnings: fluff, sad vibes a lil, smallest tiniest inference of sex (blink and you’ll miss it)

word count: 4.1k

part 2 of somebody to love is here! it’s going a little slow, but i promise, we will get some roger/reader action next chapter!!

taglist: @jennyggggrrr

It is finally Monday, the day you've been dreading all weekend after the little... incident. Your minds been clouded with thoughts of what Roger may do, you could barely spend time with your Ma and Pa the whole of yesterday. Not to mention, they were kind of disappointed at the fact you didn't have the money to pay for their water bills. You’re pulled from your dreams by the blaring sound of your alarm from your bedside table, a groan releasing from your lips as you push yourself from the comfort of your silk sheets. You can hear Freddie's angelic voice soaring through the apartment as he sings along to the radio; it's like waking up to the melodic tunes of birds outside your window, but better. You quickly got dressed, knowing you don't have a lot of time before you need to be in school, and run down stairs to grab a snack from the kitchen. Freddie notices you, but instead of saying anything, he just gave you a huge grin and a thumbs up as a form of motivation. It's strange how Freddie is able to light up any room he is in, if only you had that ability, you may actually have friends. Not that you don't like your life already- sure it has its rather larger downsides, but you like spending time by yourself; it's calming, you don't have to rely on people and most importantly people don't have to rely on you. It's just, you’re fucking lonely. That's it basically. Everyone your age is in relationships, or sleeping around, or at least getting it on with someone in more than a friendship kind of way - and you’re just not. You wander through the university campus to class, which starts in 10 minutes, and you see couples cuddling and/or making out; large groups of friends laughing and having fun; the sport teams having a large football match on the field; the drama club sitting around to learn their scripts; even the music club playing their instruments to mildly entertain passers by such as you (which in fact, it is much more irritating than it is entertaining at 9 in the morning). Everyone seems so active and full of joy, and then there's you. You don't know why you’re so separated from everyone else, you've just always been like this. You remember on the first day of secondary school, you were sat alone the whole day; no one sat with you, spoke to you, no one even knew your name - you were known as "that weird girl" for the first 3 months of your education, until the teacher finally picked on you to present in class and you had to start by saying your name. You liked it then if you were being honest, you didn't have to reach anyone's expectations and you certainly weren’t a victim of peer pressure - but now it just makes you feel like a piece of shit. Sure, you have Freddie, but it's not exactly much is it. You just wish you had someone who would love you for you and actually want to spend time with you; is that so much to ask for?

As you entered the dry lab, you noticed that everyone was there but one person in particular. Roger. Fuck sake, where is he? You went to sit in your secluded seat, in the corner of the room, praying to God Roger wasn't in today at all and he had bunked off. Your racing thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Smith raising her voice:

"Okay, class, instead of a test, we are doing a small practical today - it doesn't go towards anything, but it is important we understand the skills and can therefore apply it to any furt-" And with that, Roger burst through the door, panting and wheezing like he had just ran a mile. "Ah, Mister Taylor, late again are we? Look, if you want to get your degree, I suggest you buckle down and get here on time - this isn't an easy course and I'm not going to teach you if this is how you treat it"

"Sorry, my um, my car broke down and I had to run to school" Roger heaved, placing both his hands on his knees as he faced the ground and took in long hard breaths. Droplets of sweat glided down his forehead as he attempted to catch his breath, and you couldn't help but admire the way it framed his face; his hair still scraggly from sleep, and his clothes slightly torn from what you presumed was multiple trips when running. He looked strangely sexy. Fuck. Why were you thinking like this? But it's true... his voice was raspy and choked, from the running - but you can only imagine that's what he always sounds like when he's exhausted. When else might he be exhausted? God, you could only imagine his voice whispering into my ears after a long, hard -

"Do you mind love?" - you were pulled from your daydream, looking up to see him stood there, staring at the empty seat beside you. Your heart began to beat at an irregular pace. Why is he talking to you? Why is he sitting next to you? Did he just call you love? Does he recognise you? Is this some kind of sick joke to him? "Oh- uh, n-no" you stuttered, struggling to even form a simple sentence after your overwhelming wave of emotions which had just washed over you. He threw his briefcase on the floor beside him; pulling out his folder, which was half the size of yours, making you wonder whether Roger actually takes notes in this class or rather it's all just stored in that incredible brain of his. God he is so smart. And sometimes, like today, he has to wear his glasses in class if he forgets his sunglasses, which perfectly frame his face; they make him look so fucking sexy. OMG what the fuck is going on with you?! "Uh- uhm, why are you sitting next to me?" you barely choked out, trying to take your mind off the whole... Roger's incredibly overwhelming persona.

"Prof said we are partnered for this practical, love" He explained, tone still deep and stifled although his breathing has began to go back to normal. You could sense an awkward tension between the two of you the moment he sat down; you knew this was a bad idea and you knew you should've just bunked off. As he began to prepare the equipment for the practical, you couldn't help but stare at his face; his eyes clouded over as he bites his bottom lip from utter concentration. "See something you like?"

He lifted his head, smirking in your direction after you snap out of my trance; you had been staring at him while chewing on the end of your pen. "Oh- uhh, sorry. Sorry. Nice glasses" you panicked, swiftly turning your head in the other direction, until you heard a chuckle and a small 'thanks' come from beside you- which you were instantly able to recognise as Rogers, considering he was the only person who has sat next to you in the past few months on this course. The suspense in the atmosphere only got heightened with every second going past, and you couldn't bare to sit here anymore. "Look, I know you saw me on Saturday. I don't know if you've sat here to tease me or take the piss or whatever but I'm not in the fucking mood- I'm surviving off 3 hours sleep and 5 coffees so if you're not even going to talk to me about what you saw, then you can piss off"

Roger doesn't say anything to respond, and instead just looked at you with a semblance of speechlessness, as if he's trying to conjure up a sentence in which he won't offend or make things more awkward than they already are - failing of course as he eventually comes out with "Y-you have nice moves". You felt your cheeks immediately blush, getting redder and redder; although his words sent chills down your spine, you couldn't let it show.

"What the fuck Roger!" you exclaimed, slapping his arm harder than you originally intended, as he acknowledged it with a sharp 'ow' and quickly reached to rub the now-red area as a way of soothing it. "Sorry . But seriously, you can't tell anyone. Please. If you do, my life will be fucking ruined and I plan on actually doing something with it and if people fin-"

"Y/N, I'm not going to tell anyone." He quickly retorted, making your head turn to face him as a sudden feeling of shock ran through you. Why wouldn't he tell people? "R-really?!" you spluttered, the words barely reaching the surrounding.

"Why would I tell people?"

"Erm, because it's not exactly a thing I should be proud of and you could ruin my life with it and that's kind of what you popular kids do, not to mention you probably think I'm a slut or something because of it" you mumbled, shying away from making any form of eye contact with him. Mainly because the atmosphere is getting increasingly more awkward by the second, but also because you can't deny; you could stare into his eyes all day and I'm afraid if you start you may not be able to stop.

"I'm not that much of a dickhead, love. I don't know why you have... that job, but I'm not going to go around spreading your personal shit."

"Right, sorry. Thank you." you let a fake smile grow on your face, and once noticing him return a wide grin - it became a real one. There was a small moment of silence before you asked one question that had undoubtedly been on my mind all weekend; "W-what were you actually doing there? There are never any lads younger than 30 in that place"

"Oh, erm, I was meant to meet a girl there"

"For a date? You were going to take a girl on a date to a strip club" you emphasised, trying your hardest not to laugh loudly at the idiocy of the Rogers idea of a good date.

"Yeah. But I didn't know it was a strip club - she was the one who gave me the address and told me to meet her there. But she never showed." He explained, with a small sadness to his tone. You felt a pang of guilt and empathy wash over you as he spoke, understand completely how it feels to be stood up; it has happened on multiple occasions and you've basically accepted it's your destiny to be alone by now. "Oh, I'm sorry. She sounds like a bitch"

"She kind of was - I only agreed to the date because she was a good shag" Roger muttered under his breath, most likely hoping you didn't hear him; but you did. You almost choked at his statement, but really you just feel a little shit. You know, of course, Roger is what some might call a 'ladies man'; but the idea of him sleeping around isn't something you keep on your mind because you let it get to you. You say you'd like to be one of those girls, but honestly, you don't just want to be a one time shag that Roger has before moving onto the next. Which is exactly the reason you had originally attempted to push all the feelings you had for Roger deep, deep down - but of course they can't stay down for long, because as soon as Roger walked in the room, you had fallen all over again. And before you knew it, it was the end of the session. Which meant you'd now have to go to the library for the next 4 hours, sitting by yourself and reading over your notes for the hundredth time, pretending like you didn't just want to scrap all your work and quit. As you began to pack my stuff away, you heard Roger cough beside me - in the kind of way that says he's asking for your attention. "Hey, Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Erm, I'm performing at Imperial tonight, would you maybe want to come along? I understand if you're busy or something, I mean you are always studying, not that that's a bad thing but I understand if you can't come, I just thought you could do with some fun and I think you're a really nice girl and I wanted to hang out some more you know- but like I said, you don't have to come, you're probably super busy so" Roger muttered, looking to the floor whilst twiddling his thumbs; nerves prominent in his tone. A wide grin grew on your face as he spoke; he wanted to hang out.

"I'd love to - like you said, I could do with a night out that doesn't involve biology in any form." you smiled, as Rogers head shoots up and he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushed through you. He threw his bag over his shoulder, before heading out; you following shortly after. "So, what do you mean by performing?"

"Oh, well I'm in a band with some of my mates, it's nothing much. We play every Sunday and Monday night." He explained, hands in his jean pockets as he walked me home. Slightly stunned by his admission, you looked up at him before asking "What do you play then?"

"Oh, I'm the drummer"

And with that, you were frozen in your place as you stood in shock at the new revelation. Roger Taylor was a drummer? Your eyes widened and your mouth fell ajar at the unfamiliar thought, your mind trying to comprehend such information. Not only is Roger Taylor smoking hot, super kind (well, he seemed) AND incredibly intelligent - but he also plays the drums? Just when you thought he possibly couldn't get any more attractive, he goes and pulls this out of the bag. Roger notices your sudden halting, and turns to look at you with a confused face; "Hey, you okay? You need help?" He cautioned, the worry prominent in his tone, snapping you out of the trance you were in.

"What? Oh, yeah, sorry, just got lost in my thoughts" you chuckled, looking towards the ground as embarrassment grew on your cheeks, pacing forward to catch up with Roger who was at least 5 steps in front of you. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Huh?" you questioned, furrowing your brows as your head shot up to face. If he was now going to make you come up with a fake thought in less than five seconds, you think you may just freak out, because there is no way you can explain to him that you fancy him and therefore was dreaming about the absolute charmer he was. "Penny for your thoughts - what you thinking about?"

Fuck.

"What are we, 5 years old?" you giggled, putting a sharp facade of humour when you knew deep down your brain was racking for something, anything that may sound at least an inch better than 'I think I may love you'.

"Come on, I can tell something's bothering you. You can trust me you know - I thought I'd have proven that by now"

"I just... why are you talking to me?" you sputter out, it being the first thing to come to your head.

"What on earth do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you even associating yourself with me - I'm the weird loner who sits in the back of class, who no one talks to, or even looks at, who has one friend and has a job as a stripper. I'm not stupid Roger, I know people don't want to associate themselves with the 'quiet' girl, so why are you?" you ranted, finally releasing a long breath after venting, feeling tears pricked your eyes as you realised you were now facing your actual reality. Why was Roger suddenly trying to be your friend? "I mean, was this some kind of dare? Or have you decided you want to add me to your list of sexual escapades because don't think I haven't noticed you've only started talking to me after seeing me strip. Or do you just want to cheat your way through the course, hoping I'll end up doing your work for you?"

You stopped after hearing a small chuckle from beside you, and looked to see Rogers face sporting a little grin, clearly amused by you. "Do you know what, just fuck off. Forget about tonight, I'm leaving" you raged, beginning to storm away as anger boiled inside you at Rogers apparent sense of humour, or lack thereof. He seriously found this funny, whilst you stood here, opening up feelings you would never usually share to anyone apart from Freddie. You tended to struggle opening up about your emotions to people, unless you have a decent amount of wine in my system to flush away the shame that is. Instead, you keep them buried deep down, and you know they're bound to erupt one day- you have a slight feeling today might just be the day. You were halted in your motion as the tight grasp of a hand clutched onto your wrist, causing you to stumble back. "No, wait, Y/N m'sorry! I wasn't laughing at you, I promise."

His apologetic tone rang in your ears, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks once again as you realised how pathetic you were actually being. "The fuck were you laughing at then, 'cause I don't see any fucking clowns wandering 'round here"

"I-I, I wasn't laughing at you! I just, well, I don't really have a reason- why do I need a reason? You are super cool and you seem nice, I just wanted to get to know you."

"You still didn't answer my question." you grumbled, pouting your lips out as you dropped your head to face the floor; your cheeks beginning to redden at the idea that Roger just wanted to get to know you. No one ever just wanted to get to know you; there was always a reason. They would use you to up their grade a little; they would feel sorry for you because you’re a fucking loner; they would attempt to be friendly in hopes of getting you into their bed for the night. That was admittedly the worst one, considering it was the most common. You have never had a true friend, let alone boyfriend, so you can certainly count on yourself to be the biggest virgin gracing this earth. You'd think having a job which was in that kind of area, you’d be basically the opposite; but you agreed with yourself when you started the job that if there was one thing you would never ever turn to, it'd be sleeping with the men in the club. Not only were they almost twice my age, but they weren't exactly the most graceful, gentlemanly men you'll ever meet. Not that Roger was any more chivalrous, from what you'd heard, but at least you were the same age and you actually know him. Though you may be completely conflicting personalities; you being a quiet, reserved, and overall anxious character and Roger being one of loud, adventurous, energetic tendencies; they say opposites attract... right?

"Okay, well, maybe I was laughing at you - but not in a bad way. I was just thinking, you are kind of cute when you are angry y'know" Roger confessed, trying to come off as if he was confident and almost flirty in his words, but you swear you saw his teeth grind from nerves as he spoke.You began to feel your cheeks flush at his simplistically adorable words. "I swear to god, Roger Taylor, if you are trying to flirt with me - I will walk away right now" you giggled, poking his chest a little harder than you expected, gaining a laugh from Roger too. As the laughter died down, you realised you had reached yours and Freddie's flat already, and you still had hours to kill until tonight.

"Erm, this is my block" you muttered, pointing to the entrance of the block of flats you were slowly approaching.

"I know - we live in the same block." He chuckled, opening the door and standing against it, his arm gesturing you to walk through. Maybe he was a gentleman? "Thank you. How come I never see you around the block?"

"I don't know - I've seen you around a few times, usually when you are going out in the evening; presumably to work. I mean, you are always in the library"

"I guess." you chuckled, beginning to walk up the steps to the third floor, where your flat resided. Roger followed swiftly behind, attempting to catch up with you. There was silence as you walked up the stairs; but it wasn't the uncomfortable kind of silence. It was more the kind where you just enjoy each others company in the moment. The better kind. Once you had reached your apartment door, Roger stopped, almost as if he knew where it was without even asking. You didn't bother to question how he knew which flat you lived in, and instead just began unlocking the door.

"I'll, erm, I guess I'll see you tonight? Meet me backstage once we finished our set?" He asked, leaning on his side against the entrance banister. You looked up, but continued turning the key in the lock with movement memory, swiftly taking the key out the lock and opening the door to walk through. "Yeah, of course. You don't mind if I bring Freddie with me do you? He loves a night out"

"Fred's your roommate right? Yeah, sure" He nodded, twiddling his thumbs together. You swear you heard him sigh and possibly roll his eyes at your suggestion, but you gave him a quick smile, as if to say 'see you tonight' before closing the door behind yourself and releasing a loud sigh. As soon as you had locked it, you slid down the wooden door letting out a muffled scream into the bundled coat now in your lap. You could hear Freddie's steps approaching you from the living room, quick paced with urgency. "You alright, darling?"

"Fucking amazing Fred" You grinned, the pace of your heart gradually decreasing again after its irregular habits when you were with Roger.

"I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I heard the one and only Roger Taylor's voice as you walked in the door?" He chuckled, finding your lustful infatuation merely a piece of comedy for his entertainment. "So where is it you are taking me for a night out then?"

"Roger invited me out to the Imperial, he's performing with his band - He plays the drums, Fred. I thought he was already an angel but then he reveals he's a fucking drummer too. Fred, I think I may just suffer a heart attack if I spend even one more second around him."

"So Roger invited you out? And you asked if I could come along? I think your brain has finally fizzled out, love. Are you completely insane?"

"I don't want to die. And I'm sure it'll happen if I have to spend any more time with him alone." you sighed, your heart beating out your chest at the mere thought of spending time with Roger by yourselves. God, how am you meant to cope in a relationship with him when you can barely even hold a conversation. "I said I'd meet him backstage after their set, so we should leave around 8? What should I wear? I don't own any nice clothes Fred! All my clothes are baggy jumpers and joggers - ugh Fred take me shopping!"

"You know I can't turn down a shopping spree darling, grab your shoes and coat!" Freddie exclaimed, making you chuckle under your breath at his extravagance. He held out his hand, which you hesitantly took into line, and yanked you up from your previously comfortable position you found for yourself on the floor. You pulled on your boots and coat, wrapping your scarf around your neck to accommodate for the autumn weather outside. Fred told you of a store just a 10 minute walk from the flat, which was his favourite shop to buy clothes in; Biba. He had never really mentioned the store until a few days back, after going to a small gig by himself. You just remember him coming home relatively sober and with a look of infatuation growing on his face and in his eyes. He never really talks about what happened that night - you just presumed he'd maybe had a good hookup.

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