#ben!roger

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Her footsteps were mute as she padded forward on the concrete, searching furiously through her crochet bag. The box in her hands stayed tightly gripped though, Roger noted. He waited a bit until he was certain she had no chance of finding what he thought she was looking for, and that he would be her last resort.

“Need a light?”

He watched with careful eyes as the girl next to him fumbled about to pick out a cigarette from the nearly emptied box, probably just some cheap ones from the gas station near the dorms.

“Yes, thanks.”

The brunet nodded, bringing his forward to her’s and inhaling, a few loose embers falling to the ground in a sparkling orange flurry.

Roger observed the way her chipped nails on ring adorned fingers shakily held the cigarette as she brought it to her lips, taking a very long drag.

It was windy out that night (which was the reason he was telling himself he decided not to bother with his Zippo), her silky black dress doing barely a thing to keep her covered from the chilly temperatures. He noticed the blue tint to her formerly painted lips, only a pale stain of color left behind. He also happened to notice the goosebumps that graced her exposed arms and legs, and her slight shiver that came with it.

The girl nervously adjusted the twisted strap to her purse, sending a glance in Rog’s direction every once in a while, but mostly she kept her gaze fixed on the stars above. She seemed to be mesmerized by the way they twinkled so brightly, even in the polluted sky. The bottles of liquor in her purse clinked together, and she cringed visibly at the sound, a shiver being sent through her bones.

He smiled at her behavior, oddly endeared by it, perhaps even enchanted.

“What’s your name?”

She turned, taking the stick from between her lips. Roger kept his eyes glued to the plump flesh momentarily despite the movement away from the area.

“That’s none of your business, Roger.” She smiled, a playful look set ablaze in her eyes.

He looked down, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

“How do you know my name, then?” He questioned curiously, slanting his eyes and quirking a brow.

“Your band.” Her voice seemed softer, almost a fond tone set within it.

“You’ve seen us play?”

“Yeah, you guys are good.”

“You’re a fan then?”

She chuckled, looking to her feet.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

He laughed, nodding yet again.

They stayed together for some time, silently and mutually agreeing that enough had been said. They finished off their smokes, and with that, she turned to go.

“Bye, Roger.”

He bit his lip, feeling the sting shoot through him. He was conflicted on if to make a move, not wanting to diminish his confident and cool reputation he believed he had built for himself. He settled for shouting something along the lines of “will I see you around?” (which upon thinking back over it, maybe it wasn’t that cool), to which she only shrugged and kept walking.

He could hear the bottles loudly clanking together as she sauntered off, lord knows where to. He watched her go until she turned the corner, tossing one final look in his direction before continuing on, leaving him in deep thought.

-

“I’m telling you, mate, she was drop dead gorgeous. And I have no idea who she is, no name or anything!”

Brian rolled his eyes, tossing his notebook across the room onto the yellow sofa Roger was resting on, turning his full attention to his distraught friend.

“Well, did you ask her for her name?”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes in a similar manner to Bri. “Yes, I did. She said it was ‘none of my business’.” He scoffed, twirling a single drumstick between his fingers while tapping his foot repeatedly, annoying Brian to no end (per usual). The curly headed man only barked out a laugh, finding the entire situation quite humorous, if he was being honest.

“But she knew the band! Said that she thought we were good. S’ like she couldn’t make up her damn mind.” He grumbled, slumping forward.

“Wait, she knows the band?”

The drummer looked at him like he had two heads nodding slowly.

“Yeah, what about it?”

Brian stood up and sighed, grabbing his guitar and headed to the edge of the bar’s stage, resting behind the curtain briefly.

“You really are thick, Roger.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” He joined him by the curtain, noticing Tim had come up behind the pair.

“What’s all this about, then?”

“Nothing.” Brian and Roger replied in unison. Tim huffed, making his way onto the stage where the growing crowd was waiting. Cheers could be heard for the frontman as he introduced himself, saying something about how the rest of the band would be out in a second, and that they were just having some “sound issues”.

“Rog, if she’s a fan, she’s probably here tonight, yes?”

His eyes widened, and he suddenly began to feel quite dumb, not that he would admit it.

“Yeah, I suppose so…but she said she wasn’t a fan?” He trailed off, confused.

“She probably was just saying that for some reason. I don’t know, women are odd, they like to play hard to get.” Brian commented, oddly flippant for how conflicting his statement was.

Roger stood in place for a moment, still greatly confused what Brian was trying to get at. He shook his head and furrowed his brows, trying to put together the puzzle of this mess in his mind.

“Roger, for God's sake, don’t think about it, just go.”

Following his advice, Roger did his best to disregard any previous thoughts of confusion, a switch flipping in his mind. He stood taller, saying, “You know what Bri, maybe you’re right.”

“Great, go on then.” He watched as Roger bounded out with a newfound adrenaline and a smile plastered on his face, rolling his eyes for what wouldn’t be the final time that night at his bandmate’s antics.

As soon as he had made it behind his kit, he was scanning the crowded room, trying to locate the girl from last night. He watched the door throughout the performance, trying to see if she might have just come in a bit late. He held the hope she would somehow show up with him in his mind, but all to no avail.

The entire night, he couldn’t shake the thought of her lips from his mind, or the way the skin of her neck was so open and exposed, practically begging for him to attack it with his own lips. And with the way things were going thus far, he was sure that pretty face of her’s would be the death of him, he was certain, in fact.

“Find her?” Bri had questioned almost as soon as they had ended for the night, the lot of them now working on cleaning up.

“Nah. She never showed up.”

“I’m sorry, Rog. Maybe you’ll see her again soon, the campus isn’t that huge, you know.” Roger’s mouth formed a thin line as he raised his eyebrows, not convinced in the slightest that the situation proposed would occur.

“At this point I’m wondering if she’s even a bloody student here.” Roger grumbled, obviously no longer feeling the initial electric adrenaline of the night's performance.

Brian frowned, placing a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder and patting it once or twice before standing to go finish packing up.

It was later now, and the boys were finally leaving the bar, bidding their goodbyes to those around them. Roger walked out the front (in what Tim and Brian joked was a ‘moping manner’), hearing the bell jangle above his head, ringing annoyingly in his ear. The cold air hit him like an arctic breeze (or a ton of bricks, he wasn’t sure which description was more fitting). He shook his head and blinked a few times, as if that would rid his body of the frigid feeling. He sighed dramatically and pulled his corduroy jacket tighter around himself, watching as his breath made a small cloud in front of him.

“Roger?”

He turned, recognizing the voice immediately.

“Having a pity party, are you?” She giggled out, wrapping her arms around her middle.

“It’s only me, so no. Not a party.”

She “ahh”-d in understanding, her mouth forming into a sly grin. Her lips were a pale pink color that night, her eyes a bright blue shade. And similarly to the night previous, she was graced with only a brown fringed dress, her matching boots in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

“Then what would it be if I joined you?”

He stood in thought, tilting his head. “I think then, yeah, it would be a party.”

“Do you not get cold, ever?” He added after a beat of silence, observing her ill outfit choice for the frosty climate. She rolled her eyes, muttering out a brief “ha, ha.”

Roger couldn’t help but bite his lip, holding back a laugh.

“I do on occasion get a little bit chilly. But I like the feeling.”

He tilted his head, walking over to where she was leaning against the brick wall of the dive bar. He turned to face her, not that she noticed, putting his weight on the rough surface behind him.

“It makes me feel,” she hesitated, struggling to find the right word, although she felt it was right on the tip of her tongue.

“Alive?”

She finally met his eyes after what seemed like forever, softly nodding. To him, she looked like an angel in that moment, the street light so beautifully illuminating her locks like a halo around her. He reached a cautious hand forward, dragging it against her cheek, down to her bottom lip.

Her mind was screaming at her to leave while she still could, to somehow not fall in the mix of the infamous campus player that was Roger Taylor.

But her heart? Well, as cliche as it sounds, her heart was telling her to disregard any reasonable thoughts and just kiss the bastard, for God’s sake.

And if anyone knew Y/n Y/l/n, they knew that most times, she would listen to the latter mentioned, rather than the former. And so after several moments of unbearable silence, she decided she would. Catching on relatively fast, Roger took her flush against him, Y/n able to feel his breath fanning over her face.

She leaned forward with a small smile, placing her hands on either side of his face. Her eyes wandered to his plump and rosy lips, adrenaline pumping through her veins. But before she could make the final leap, so to say, Brian, of all people, called out her name in a confused nature, squinting, believing that it might have been his eyes deceiving him. The girl from his 9 a.m. lecture could not possibly be about to snog his bandmate.

Impossible.

Her eyes widened, head turning immediately when hearing her name fall from his lips.

“Brian, hey!”

“Wait, you two know each other?”

Ignoring Roger’s (panicked) question, Brian walked over, a look of amazement still prevalent in his features. She moved from Roger’s side over to Brian, giving him a side hug, Bri’s arm resting on her shoulders.

“I see you’ve met Y/n. She’s in my astronomy class.”

She smiled brightly as the neon signs lining the downtown district of bars and restaurants alike, meeting Brians gaze.

“Yup, got to love Dr. Martin’s lectures.” She chuckled, the tall man next to her doing the same.

Picking up on Roger’s absolutely bewildered appearance, still taking in the situation unfolding in front of him, Brian took the liberty of initiating another conversation.

“So, Y/n, did you see the show tonight?”

She frowned, crossing her arms.

“Wanted to, but no, got caught up in the library. I have my final for statistics on Thursday, or else I would have been there.” She locked eyes with Roger, giving him a soft smile. Suddenly changing her demeanor, she reached into her bag she always seemed to have with her, pulling out those cheap cigarettes and her Zippo. She lit one of the sticks, inhaling.

“In fact, I heard your drummer was incredible, so I thought I would try to see him in action tonight.” Her gaze never left Rogers as she conversed, her mouth pressed in a line, the rest of her face completely neutral.

“But you’ve seen us before Y/n, he’s been with the band for quite some time.”

“I mean, I wanted to see him with a fresh pair of eyes, a different perspective, I guess.”

Still mildly confused, Brain shook his head and muttered something like “Right, okay” to which Y/n softly smiled at before dropping the cigarette from her hand. Barefoot, she couldn’t reach down to step on it, have the sparks die out under her toes.

“Could one of you get that, please?”

Roger nodded immediately, his boot finding its way quickly, the toe of it making a circular motion. His eyes stayed on Y/n, as had hers before. And despite the bustling city around them, Hell, even despite Brian’s perplexed stare, it felt oddly intimate, as if they were locked onto each other’s view (not that they were complaining).

But they weren’t, as she proved mere seconds later, abruptly bidding them goodbye and heading the opposite direction.

The pair of boys watched her as she went, heads tilted and jaws dropped to where if their mothers were present, they would be scolded to “close their mouths before they catch flies in there!”.

“That’s her, you know.” Roger commented bluntly, slightly shaking his head and then popping his lip.

Brian took a moment, turning toward his friend, stuttering.

“As in, her, her? Y/n is mystery girl?” He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah, well, good luck with that, Rog.”

“Why would I need that, Brian?” He challenged, putting his hands on his hips, lifting his chin. Brain kept his assumed position, moving his hand to scratch at his neck.

‘Well, I’m sure if you hang out around her enough, you’ll find out.”

Rather than shouting out at him, asking him what the Hell he meant, as he really wanted to, Roger paid Bri no attention, not even giving him a second look before under his breath saying “I’ll see you later”, and in what Brian considered to be a quite shocking turn of events, bolting off in the direction Y/n had gone.

He ignored the shouts from Brian, ignored the judgmental stares and loud whispers of those who recognized him from the band. He no longer cared about keeping his ‘cool reputation’, not when she was so close.

“Is that Roger Taylor?”, “Oi, isn’t that the drummer from the band at the pub?”, “Hey, why’s he buggin’ out?” all flooded his ears, usually followed by what seemed to be snickering, making a desperate attempt to cloud his mind from his self-assigned mission. But it was no use, as he was set on catching up to her. In fact, she was so close he swore he could smell the mixed scent that was uniquely her, smoke and her perfume.

He hollered her name, God, he yelled it till his throat was hoarse, just ‘cause he could. He loved the way it rolled off his tongue, he loved the fact he even had learned it to begin with, and that alone was probably why he adored it so much.

She heard his cries, turning where she stood and tilting her head.

“Roger? What on Earth are you doing?”

He finally met her, bent over on his hands and knees, breath lost in totality. She placed a concerned hand on his sweaty head, combing through his chocolate locks. He would have shivered at the feeling, if he had the energy. Rather, he looked up with the goofiest smile she’d ever seen, resembling a golden retriever, or german shepherd perhaps, in human form.

‘D’you wanna go somewhere with me? Hang out a bit?”

She nodded, holding out a hand.

“Lead the way.”

-

“Mom and Dad want me to be some kind of a scientist, study the stars.”

“Yeah? And what do you think about that.”

She tilted her head, shifting her position.

“I’m not quite sure. I wouldn’t be against it, that I know. The stars are beautiful, but they aren’t where my heart lies, I guess.”

He turned to face her, their noses almost touching. She could feel his breath fanning over her face, and the proximity sent butterflies through her stomach.

“I want to be an actress.” She all but whispered, turning her attention back to the full night sky and the wonders that hung in it.

“An actress, huh?”

She only hummed a confirmation, moving her left hand to pick at the cool grass under her palms.

“I could see that. You, I mean, on the big screens.”

She turned, and Roger swore he had never seen anyone smile so big before in his life.

“Really?”

His own smile grew, and she nodded vigorously, the two of them beginning to laugh. He pulled her closer by her shoulders, unaware of where the conversation would lead.

“I’ll go to New York. You’ll see me on billboards in Times Square.”

“Well, that’s nice to know. I’ll just be a lone dentist somewhere, while you forget all about me, having lavish parties and such. Whatever it is that famous people do.” His voice was obviously joking, melodramatic was written all over him, yet Y/n couldn’t help but still feel a sliver of guilt.

She hit his arm, rolling back over to face him. She still had a smile glued onto her lips, both of their eyes crinkling at the edges. 

“Oh, shut up, will you? Smile will make it big, and we’ll meet again, when you’re on tour. Or perhaps if I’m filming where you’re performing! We’ll have those nights to ourselves, It’ll be a secret rendezvous.”

She turned to her back again, finding his hand on the damp green, her heart beating a million miles a second as she reached for it, slowly entangling her fingers in his.

“The papers will write about us, Rog, when they find out. ‘Famous actress Y/n Y/l/n seen leaving a hotel with renowned drummer Roger Taylor’ is what the headlines will say. God, what a scene we’ll cause.” Her eyes were full of  excitement as she spoke, her heart feeling like it was so filled with glee that it could soar out of her chest.

“Well, I wanna know the specifics.” Roger sat up, pulling her up with him, she giggled, and the brunette wrapped a hand around her waist. She sat beside him, the streetlight by the backroad she had led them on illuminating her like a silhouette. She bit her lip and grinned, tilting her head up to better exam Rogers angelic features.

“Are you gonna have some bloke waiting for you at home, hmm? Waiting for you while you conquer the world, only for you to break his poor heart?”

“Nah.” Her answer was immediate, her eyes honest as she spoke. “Only a cactus. He’ll be my only friend. I hear it’s lonely in Hollywood, Roger.” He raised his eyebrows briefly at this, choosing his next words.

“You’ll have me?”

His head turned to look at her, admiring the way the pale moonlight illuminated her, the artificial light from the streetlamps not doing her neverending beauty and justice, in his opinion. Their eyes seemed sporadic, searching each other's faces for signs of what they were doing, possibly being wrong, but they found nothing, as expected.

The yearning had become all too much for the inspired pair, and it felt like at last, all they could do, the only thing they could do, was kiss.

So they did. Roger took her face in his hands, closing his beautiful eyes, his eyelashes barely brushing against hers. He leaned forward, joining them together, finding that they immediately moved in a perfect synchronization. They were like two sides of the same coin, and that seemed to be particularly evident in that moment. By the contrast of their lips, or perhaps the aspirations of their careers becoming somehow just a little bit clearer.

But it didn’t matter, none of it did. Not in the long run. So they pulled apart, chests heaving and faces painted with childish grins.

It was quiet then, only the crickets and the howling wind could be heard. But she liked it that way, preferred it, actually. So quiet, in fact, that Roger was able to fall fast asleep, Y/n lying comfortably in his arms. She stared at the stars, then back to his sleeping figure, her mind unable to come to a consensus on what on God's green Earth she was to do. 

She settled for placing a kiss on his jaw, closing her eyes. His eyes only fluttered, never waking completely. She muttered something like “See you, rockstar.” against it, before standing up and walking away, only turning back once to see his sleeping form one more time.

That was the last time for 6 years that he would see Y/n Y/l/n. See her in person, at least.

When he woke up the next morning, he was confused to say the least, wondering why Y/n didn’t wake him, mostly wondering where she had even gone. He looked around himself, patting the green grass beneath him, as if she somehow was invisible and he had missed her upon initial glance. He had shouted for her, his throat still hurting from when he did the same thing only 12 hours previous. 

He had felt out of control, like the one he had been chasing had just slipped through his fingers (which it had). He had remembered asking Bri, day after day, if he had seen her in class, even just seen her around in general. Everytime the answer was the same.

“No Roger”, “I’m sorry, Roger”, “Not today, Roger”. It was a horrible, predictable pattern, that he had enough of. He was supposed to recover from it quickly, bounce back from her almost immediately, as there was basically nothing to bounce back from.

But he couldn’t, and due to such reasons, he supposed he finally understood what Brian had said, or warned, that night before he had gone chasing after her. He got it, in his own sad way.

And over the years, she slowly faded to the back of the drummer's mind, behind groupies, and songs, and shows, and such, just for her to resurface again any time he saw her on a billboard, just as she had promised. But he never let it show, outwardly at least.

He had made Brian swear not to tell the others, never to breathe a word of it to Deaky or Fred. He was embarrassed by it, for some reason, and that’s why he guessed he forbade him from speaking of it. But how long can you keep a silly college secret from your nosy bandmates? Apparently 6 years, tops, for Roger Taylor.

“Alright, everyone. Gather ‘round, I’ve got a surprise.” Freddie had said, his grumbling bunch of friends tired from their day’s work. Though, they usually had grown to appreciate and look forward to Fred’s “surprises”, today everyone was just a tad bit too grumpy to try (a certain Roger Taylor in particular, let’s call it foreshadowing).

“Oh, stop your moaning and whining, please, I promise this will be good!” the eccentric frontman had said, something hidden behind his back in his left hand.

Rog ran a hand through his, now, blond hair, exhaling in such a way that made Freddie slant his eyes, before giving in and rolling them at his flippant behavior.

“What’s going on, Fred?” Brian had been the brave soul to ask, stepping forward and then looking away momentarily to place his guitar onto a stand waiting not so far away.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He replied, jumping down from his place on the risers, removing his hand from his back and holding out what seemed to be 4 tickets to something. He walked down the loosely formed line of men, putting one in each of their extended palms. Roger, at the end of their formation of sorts, became concerned when Brian had burst out laughing, looking to his right, being met with Roger’s face of confusion.

Freddie, possibly more confused than Roger, pressing the piece of thick paper into his hand, his gaze falling onto Brian, who now had tears in his eyes.

“Bri, what’s so… funny. Shit.” He had looked down to the slip, the only words he needed to read to know he was absolutely screwed, being “Jaws” and “Premiere”.

Now, anybody who knew anything, knew that Y/n Y/l/n was going to be in the film that was said to become the blockbuster of the summer, playing the role of Ellen Brody (though a few had said she was far too young for the job). She had been an overnight success in the film industry, gaining popularity from the 1973 film, ‘The Sting’, playing Billie.

And Roger had watched ‘The Sting’, and you can imagine his surprise when Y/n had sauntered onto screen, red lipped and fresh faced. (He had to admit, she looked great in a suit.)

After that, the assault on Roger’s fragile heart was never ending.

Billboards began to pop up even more frequently as she was to star in more films, and it seemed no matter where he was touring, he couldn’t escape her. Whether it was posters, her face printed on newspapers, adverts in about every place business was done for one of her films, he felt like he was being followed. He had even seen an article about her in a magazine, and when he had flipped the page he was greeted with Queen’s smiling faces.

He had stopped watching them after ‘American Graffiti’.

So, he figured that this one wouldn’t be any different, and he simply planned on ignoring said film until he caved, doing his best to avoid her on the silver screen and anywhere else, which hadn’t been too difficult until this point (not).

But this? This was a whole new level of being royally fucked.

“Brian, Rog, something you want to share with the rest of the class?” John had asked, cocking his head and propping his legs up on the coffee table in front of him. Brian began to speak, wrapping an arm around Roger’s shoulders, the shorter man looking up at him with angry fire burning in his eyes.

“Well, I’m honestly quite excited. The film industry has always seemed very intriguing, actually, and I’m looking forward to meeting new people. Rog?”

“No.”

“No?” John repeated, “No, what?” He waved a hand around, trying to understand what Roger’s problem was.

“I just- I don’t- I knew-”

“Roger had a fling with Y/n Y/l/n and she broke his heart.” Brain blurted out, Roger turning and immediately smacking him upside his curly head of hair. He regarded an “Ouch!” before him and the rest of the boys burst out laughing, the drummer not included in that demographic, fuming.

“Rog, darling, when was this? How did we not know?” Freddie managed to breathe out, sitting down next to Deaky on the studio sofa. He crossed his hands and ankles, his full attention turned towards Roger who really, really didn’t wanna have to do this, and who really, really was gonna get Brian back for this later. Would he untune all his guitars? Unplug his amp during rehearsals, perhaps put hair remover in his shampoo? But, that would have to wait until after he was forced to spill his 6 year secret.

“It was in 69-”

“69?!” Freddie had cried out. “It’s been 6 bloody years? And you didn’t think to tell us?”

“Well I didn’t really see a reason it would be necessary to tell you all! In fact, I probably wouldn’t have told you ever if this bloke didn’t have such a big mouth!”

“Hey, watch it.” Brian weighed in, crossing his arms and fluttering his eyes.

“Look, Roger I really don’t see the issue here. We go to the premiere, you just keep a low profile and ignore Y/n, problem solved.” John cut in, trying to be helpful.

Keyword: trying.

“And how exactly will I do that?”

“We will behave, I promise.” Freddie added, though Roger seemed to be having a difficult time believing him or his claim for the others. So Roger only scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

-

Cameras were flashing brightly, reporters and such were shouting loudly, and Y/n was already exhausted.

Her red lips were painted like DeAngelo had done it himself, and her hair was styled just the way she liked. The heels she was wearing per request of her stylist, though, were horrible. They looked lovely, yes, but they were digging into her poor ankles, and she still had to wear them for who knew how long. She didn’t complain, though, she wouldn’t dream of it.

She would just continue her slow walk down the carpet, a sultry smile on her face. The black fabric of the gown she was wearing fit her beautifully, snug in all the right places.

She sure hoped it was, at least. Especially because she knew that he would be there.

Roger Taylor, the blessed drummer that managed to make a home in the backburner of her mind, his success coming as no surprise to the actress. She had loved every one of their records, and rather than running from his work like Roger had, she opted for going straight to the record shop, purchasing any and every Queen album in her sight. When she had checked out, the very shocked cashier had made some remark, asking something about “you a fan?”

She had thought about it for a moment, thinking back to all those years ago when Roger had asked the same thing. She smiled, shrugging.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

So when she had worked up the courage to invite the entire band to the premiere (on behalf of Spielberg, of course) she was a nervous wreck to find out they had accepted. Really, ask anyone who had any contact with her in the time from then to the premiere, they could testify that her moodiness had risen like a hot air balloon.

Now, though, she was kind of regretting that she had invited them, looking over to the sharp looking bunch, all dressed to the nines. She scanned her eyes over them, catching a wave from Brian, which she gladly returned with an enthusiastic smile. Bri then tapped Roger on the shoulder to alert him of Y/n’s acknowledgment, which resulted in Y/n’s eyes widening to the size of moons.

She turned her head, and worked to finish up her walk of the carpet just a tad bit faster. It all seemed to be for nothing, though, as in the dark of the theater for the premiere itself, she saw the seat next to her be filled, a presence filling her senses.

“Miss me?”

-

Their hands were all over each other, not truly caring if the tabloids caught a glimpse, just needing to make up for lost time.

They had stumbled into the golden hotel both her and Queen were staying in, the swinging doors of the New York establishment blowing a cool gust of wind in their direction.

They merely laughed at the minor interruption, their teeth clashing as they both smiled momentarily. It was soon forgotten, though, both of them having much more pressing matters in their minds.

They only came to a cease in the elevator, some old couple who most definitely did not care about whatever pressing issue the two of them felt they had, standing off to the side. (Y/n could swear she saw the older woman smirk and wink at her, to which she cocked her head and smiled.)

Once back into the safe confines of Y/n’s suite, they resumed like they had never even stopped, hands gravitating towards the others form as if they were opposite magnets, unable to be separated for too long.

“You’ve driven me crazy, you know that, right? “

She giggled and bit her lip, looking up into his eyes, their foreheads pressed together.

“Mmm? I’d hope so.”

He pulled away, shaking his head, blond locks following suit.

“Really, you have no idea. I haven’t been able to shake you from my head. You’re everywhere.”

Her excitement could barely be contained at his confession of sorts, chest heaving, trying to stay calm.

“Yeah, that was the plan.”

Roger shook his head with a dry chuckle, looking to his feet and back to her when she had tilted his head up, her finger resting on his jaw.

“Well, are you into it?” She questioned, grabbing his hand and pulling their clasped fingers in between their chests, her eyes hazy with hope.

“Yeah.” He titled his head, feigning a pondering look. “You could say I’m kinda into it.”

“Shut it!”

“Make me.”

She rolled her eyes at his stupidly provocative suggestion, and he only laughed, the two of them falling onto the plush comfort of the bed in a meshed flurry for the remainder of the night.

And if you couldn’t guess what could have possibly happened next, the black dress ended up in a pooled up pile next to the bed that night, right next to the heels that finally she had the pleasure of discarding.

The next morning, it was unlike the one 6 years ago, as when Roger woke up, he was overjoyed to find a sleeping Y/n, laying on his chest with hair splayed around her. And he had to say, he usually wasn’t much of a cuddler, but for some reason he felt so incredibly endeared, that anything else wouldn’t have sufficed.

He ran small circles on the exposed skin of her bare shoulder, the comforter concealing the rest of her limbs that were tangled up with Roger’s.

When she stirred, Roger sat up, fondly watching as her eyes fluttered open and her tongue ran across her dried lips, still carrying a hint of last night's red pigment. She looked next to her, her eyeline matching up with the covered skin of Roger’s lap.

She sighed, shifting her head to rest on his thighs as her feet dangled off of the bed. One of Roger’s hands came up to softly massage the top of her head, the other against the headboard, behind his neck. She stared at the ceiling, an unreadable expression creeping its way to her features.

“We were jacked up last night.” Roger’s voice cut through the silence they shared, deeper in the late morning than she had heard before.

“Correction, you were jacked up.”

“Whatever.”

They laughed, silence soon taking over once again. Roger sighed, closing his ever tired eyes.

“Are we gonna pay for this?”

She scoffed, inhaling deeply before reaching over to the nightstand, grabbing her carton of cigarettes. He noticed they were the same brand from college, a small smile making its way to his face at the thought.

She first lit hers, then lighting a second one for the man occupying her king sized bed (though she wasn’t even slightly upset by this, quite the opposite). She handed it to him, sticking her own between her lips and sitting up, straddling where her head had been minutes before.

She leaned forward, so close their noses were to the point where they were nearly touching. She took the cigarette from her lips, blowing the smoke to the left of Rog in the direction of the large balcony overlooking Times Square. She turned her attention back to him, though it had never really left, tilting her head.

“Do you regret it?”

“No.” The answer came immediately, no careful consideration or pondering needed.

“Right.” She removed herself from him, standing and taking the sheet with her, letting it cover her like a renaissance dress. She walked over to the balcony, leaning against the frame of the double doors. She took another drag, an adoring smile spreading across her face.

“Then there’s your answer.”

She paused, Roger tilted his head, his brows lifting.

“Of course we will.”

✺🎬✺

Despite the bitterly cold nip in the air, Ben and (Y/N) slowly walked down the street in the general direction of his flat. Neither of the pair were too sure why they were taking their time, perhaps they were nervous for what might happen when they finally reached the blond actor’s home. It’s not that they wouldn’t sleep with each other if the right opportunity presented itself, it was the in between time that worried them most. As they had both proven to themselves and each other so far that evening, neither of them were very good at small talk just to keep from slipping into awkward silences, void of hope and an overwhelming amount of wishing to be any other place than there in that current moment. The actor looked over to the girl next to him, her (h/c) locks flew back gently in the light breeze that danced its way down the street. Her mesmerising (e/c) irises watered very slightly from the bitterness of the chill in the air, but even still, she looked absolutely breath taking, especially when she turned slightly to look at her, a sweet smile spreading across her lips. “What?” She asked playfully as they stopped as they went down into the Oxford Street underground stop.

Ben smiled and shook his head. “Nothing...it’s just…” He let out a sigh. “You just look so beautiful.” He admitted which spawned a heavy tint of blush to cover her cheeks. “And even more so now.” He smirked gently bumping shoulders with her. Reaching his stop, Ben led (Y/N) down the streets of London to his flat nearby. He paused as he was about to place his keys in the lock. “Just a word of warning about Frankie. She can be a little...boisterous when I get home.” He chuckled.

“Love in its purest form.” (Y/N) giggled softly making the actor smile brightly at her.

As Ben put his keys in the lock, (Y/N) could immediately hear the sounds of claws scraping across the hardwood floor as little paws tried to gain enough traction to run to the door, accompanied by the excited yips and yowls from the beagle inside. Ben carefully pushed open the door so Frankie wouldn’t get out as she tried to shove herself through the crack in the doorway to greet her best friend. “Hi Frankster.” He cheered. “Alright, alright, come on back inside.” He tried to calm her as he pushed his way back into the flat, (Y/N) following close behind. As Frankie refused to calm down, Ben’s voice got a little more authoritative. “Frankie, sit.” He commanded. (Y/N) shuttered ever so slightly at the sound of him, she’d be lying if she wasn’t a bit turned on by the authority in his voice. She’d surely get on her knees right now if he asked her to like that. Frankie sat herself down as told, body wiggling with excitement as Ben crouched down to pet her. She whimpered happily as she pawed and licked at his hand. “I know, Franks, I know, but we’ve got a guest, we have to make a good impression.” Ben chuckled as he looked back at (Y/N) with a wide smile. “Come say hi, she won’t bite. Promise.”

(Y/N) slowly walked up before crouching down next to the blond actor, so as not to scare the beagle. “What did you say her name was?” (Y/N) asked as she slowly stuck her hand out allowing the Beagle to sniff at her hand.

“Frankie.” Ben smiled. Frankie, hearing her name, barked in response, startling the girl, making her pull her hand away rather quickly. Ben chuckled ever so slightly. “She can get a bit noisy, that’s just her ‘hi’ bark. It’s alright.” Ben spoke softly and calmly as he gently took her hand. Ben’s heartbeat sped up ever so slightly as a small spark ignited as their skin made contact with each other. His eyes quickly flicked up to meet (Y/N)’s sparkling (e/c) irises. He wondered if she had felt it too or if he was simply imagining things. Slowly he brought their hands back toward the beagle’s nose allowing her to sniff her hand. “Frankie, this is (Y/N), she’s our friend.” Frankie’s nose cautiously sniffed at the newcomer before she started to lick her hand, making (Y/N) laugh as she pulled her hand out of Ben’s to pet her properly. Frankie nuzzled her hand into (Y/N)’s hand before standing up walking up to her before jumping up to lick her face. Ben was initially going to scold Frankie, but the second he saw (Y/N)’s face light up with joy as she laughed at the love and affection the dog was showing her, he couldn’t feel any more joy than he did in that moment. His face lit up at the sight. The actor stood walking to the hooks on the wall before grabbing Frankie’s lead. “She must really like you; I don’t think I’ve ever seen her take to someone new so quickly like that.” He smiled as he walked back up next to her, smiling down at the sight of them. It was so innocent and pure, and somehow it made (Y/N) all the more fuckable in his mind. He most definitely wasn’t going to force her into anything that she wasn’t comfortable with, but it really made her all the more attractive to him. “I’m going to take her out really quick to do her business. While I’m gone, just make yourself at home. Living room’s right through there.” He pointed in the direction of a doorway as he pulled Frankie off of the female before hooking her up to her lead.

“Don’t be long.” She winked at the blond making him smirk before he left with the beagle.

(Y/N) took off her coat and shoes, storing them where Ben kept his things before walking into the living room. It was a nice space with navy walls, mahogany finishes on the fireplace, and wood trimmings. He had an apothecary table that matched the wood finishing’s of the room sat atop an ornate rug in front of a dark coloured leather couch. A matching armchair sat not too far away. He also had a rather large flatscreen that hung above the fireplace with a few video game consoles sat on the mantle. Off to the side behind the couch was a glass table with two chairs that he probably used as his dining table. Frankie’s bed and wicker basket of various soft toys and bones sat near the radiator under the window that had a nice view of Primrose Hill. There was a suitcase in the corner of the room she could only assume belonged to Joe along with some extra bed linens and pillows that he was probably going to use had he been spending the night here at Ben’s flat instead of her own.

What really caught her eye was the film poster that had been framed and hung on his wall in shades of violet. It was for Bohemian Rhapsody and had the four guys playing the members of Queen in profile. She had never gotten around to seeing the film, but she had really wanted to, she rather liked Queen. Each one of the guys had signed the poster except for the one who played Roger Taylor which she found a bit strange. Her eyes scanned over their faces, she recognised Gwilym Lee as Brian May from his appearances on Midsomer Murders and his latest series The Great. Then there was, of course Rami Malak who was just flat out incredible in any role he played from Ahkmenrah in Night at the Museum all the way to Safin in No Time to Die. But as her eyes scanned over to the actors who were playing Roger Taylor and John Deacon did her eyes practically pop from her skull. “Shit…” She breathed out as she walked closer to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. It was Ben and Joe on the poster. Her eyes scanned down to the names across the bottom: Rami Malak, Gwilym Lee, Ben Hardy, Joe Mazzello. “No way…” (Y/N) breathed out as her eyes looked back up at ‘Roger Taylor’. That was Ben alright, but why hadn’t he said something earlier. Then again, the more she thought about it, the more she began to figure that somebody in his position, because she doubted highly that this was his first film role, would want to keep a level of animosity when he was able to.

(Y/N) looked up hearing the door open. Frankie scurried into the room and made a B-line directly toward (Y/N), jumping up on her legs to demand pets and scratches. (Y/N) smiled as she bent down to pet the beagle as she jumped up to kiss her face again. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest little girl? So full of love.” She praised the dog as Ben walked into the room, with a smile on his face, now rid of his windcheater and shoes. She looked up at Ben with a wide smile. “I think your dog has claimed me as hers from the evening.” She laughed as she scratched the beagle behind the ears.

Ben laughed. “Hey, I saw her first Franks.” He said as he walked over to the kitchen as he looked at her over the counter via the open floor plan. “Can I get you something to drink? Alcohol? A tea? Water?”

“Whatchya got in the way of alcohol?”

“Wine, whiskey, vodka, a couple of beers? What’s your poison of choice?”

“Wine would be grand.”

“Red or white?”

“I mean, I prefer Rose but if those are my options then Red.” She smiled at him as Frankie tried to knock her over. “Frankie!” She laughed.

Ben laughed as he poured them both a glass of Malbec. “Easy on her Franks, we’re trying to impress our guest. Not lick her to death.” He came over setting down one of the glasses on the end table before pushing Frankie off of (Y/N) before offering her a hand up. His heart pounded against his chest as he felt that spark of connection again between the two of them. He helped her to her feet before looking down at their hands intertwined with one another. It felt so small and soft in his rough calloused hands, but at the same time, it felt so perfect sitting in his own. His celadon gaze lifted up to her lovely (e/c) irises to find them looking at their hands. He felt his breath hitch ever so slightly in his throat in anticipation. Could she have felt it too? He cleared his throat before handing her the glass. “Here you are, one glass of Malbec.” He smiled sweetly.

“Thank you.” She nodded, taking a sip as he grabbed his own glass again. When Ben joined her again taking a sip of his own glass, she pointed at the Bohemian Rhapsody poster. “Is this you and Joe?” She asked, her eyes connecting with his trying to gage if she was getting a legitimate answer from her. Ben felt all the colour drain from his face as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to form a coherent sentence. She giggled softly. “I’m going to take your silence as a yes then.” She teased gently as she walked over to the couch sitting herself down.

Ben closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “I’m going to assume that you haven’t seen the film?” He asked as he walked over joining her on the couch.

(Y/N) shook her head as she held her glass between her hands. “No, I really wanted to, I just never got around to it, too busy with work. Anyway, that must’ve been cool, but I won’t bother you with questions about it.” She smiled at him.

Ben raised a brow, an inquisitive look on his features as he tilted his head to the side, a light smirk on his lips. “Really? Most people just bombard me with questions about the various projects I’ve worked on.”

She shook her head reaching out to place a hand on his knee. “I’m not most people, I’m (Y/N).” She smiled at him. Ben’s eyes flicked down to her hand before going back to her eyes, waiting for a further explanation. “Figure an actor’s life, especially one that’s in the public eye like you, might miss having that bit of animosity that the rest of us have. If you wanted me to know about it, you would’ve told me on your own. Point is, you probably don’t get many chances anymore to just be Ben. I don’t want to get to know Ben Hardy, because just Ben has been a pretty amazing guy so far.” She smiled at him. “I’d like to get to know him more.”

Ben was taken aback. It was such a breath of fresh air to meet someone who wanted to get to know Ben Jones and not Ben Hardy. It was such a rare occasion these days to meet someone who actively knew who he was and didn’t want to talk about everything else. “Wow…” He smiled. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve had an opportunity to just be Ben Jones…”

“Jones?” She asked tilting her head in confusion, she was sure the poster had said his surname was Hardy.

“My real surname. Hardy is my stage-name.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Ben Jones...I like that.” She smiled gently rubbing his knee.

Ben smirked as he placed his hand on hers, that familiar jolt passing through his hand to hers again. Judging by the way her breath hitched in her throat, the actor was fairly certain that she was feeling exactly what he had been feeling all this time. “You know…” He said as he placed his glass down on the apothecary table. “I’m surprised that a wonderful girl like you would even look twice at a lad like me.”

“Fishing for compliments there, Jones?” She asked with a giggle. “Because you don’t need to.”

“Just having you talk to me was the best compliment I could’ve received tonight.” He smirked softly, placing a hand on her knee, gently rubbing it with his thumb. She looked down with a heavy blush resting over her features. How could this man affect her this much with a simple look and single sentence. She was completely at his mercy, bending to his every whim, crumbling to pieces beneath his gaze. And Ben was fully aware of the effect he was having upon her. He smiled, the grin reaching up to his effervescent celadon gaze, as he reached out to cup her chin, gently tilting it upward to meet his. “God...how did a bloke like me get lucky enough to meet a woman like you…”

“Maybe it was destiny….” (Y/N) whispered softly, her (e/c) irises glinting with a mixture of shyness, playfulness but more importantly, lust. The actor felt his heart pound against his chest as she said that. All night their entire interaction had just felt so natural, and more importantly it just felt right. He couldn’t have asked for this evening to have gone any better than it had been so far. There was only one way it could be made better, and he was going to take his shot. He slowly the magnetic pull as they found themselves leaning toward one another as if someone else was pulling on their heartstrings. It was finally going to happen. They were finally going to find out if the fireworks were there when their lips connected. Just as he had gotten but a lips distance away, Frankie had trotted next to them, jumping up on the couch between them before slobbering kisses all over Ben’s face. The actor closed his eyes and scrunched up his face as his chin was covered in dog kisses. (Y/N) let out heart-warming laugh as she watched the scene unfold before her. “Awe, looks like someone’s jealous.”

“Frankie…” He grumbled with a chuckle under her breath as he pushed the beagle off of himself. She simply let out a yip before turning to (Y/N) doing the same to her. (Y/N) let out a flurry of laughter as she stroked Frankie’s back.

“Well, aren’t you just the romantic?” She laughed making Ben’s heart flutter in his chest. Nothing was more attractive than a girl his dog seemed to adore. “Bet you learned that from your dad.” She teased the actor gently winking at him as Frankie settled herself down in (Y/N)’s lap. Way to be a little cock-block, Franks. The thought to himself as he shook his head with a smirk, the beagle looking back at him with innocent eyes.

“Suppose I might’ve rubbed off on her a bit, haven’t I?” He laughed as he stood walking over to the cupboard above the stove pulling out a big dog biscuit. Normally he reserved these biscuits for after baths, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and large distractions. Frankie’s tail thumped against the couch; her ears perked up in anticipation as Ben walked over with the treat in hand. “See that Franks?” He waved it in front of her face. “Go get it.” He said as he threw it through the door into his study knowing fully well, she would settle herself down beneath his desk as she slowly chomped on her treat so nobody could try and steal it from her. “That should keep her busy for a bit.”

(Y/N) smiled softly as she ran her finger over the rim of her glass. “So if she learned from you, who did you learn from?”

“Oh well you know, I learned my passion in the good old-fashioned school of lover boys.” He winked cheekily.

“Sounds posh.” She laughed with a smirk. “Any chance you might be able to give me a lesson some time?”

Ben groaned internally, she had given him the perfect opportunity and quite frankly, he just couldn’t resist any longer. “I suppose I could show you a thing or two.” He smirked as he quickly took her glass from her, setting it down on the table next to his before pulling her into a kiss. A jolt of electricity passed between them as their lips finally connected for the first time that night. Ben sighed happily as he closed his eyes, deepening the kiss, fireworks igniting in his head at feel of her soft, flush lips upon his own. It had been everything he had been hoping for and more. (Y/N) let out a sigh of euphoria as she placed a hand on the back of Ben’s neck, playing with the baby hairs there while the other rested on his shoulder. That action sent a shiver of excitement running up the actor’s spine. They pulled apart only for air, immediately resting their foreheads on each other’s as the gazed blissfully into each other’s eyes. “How was that…?” He asked quietly.

She smiled softly gently pecking his lips a few times, only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning strong for the girl ever since the drink arrived at his and Joe’s table earlier in the evening, sending the campfire into a full-on forest fire that had no hope at being extinguished. “I think I need another…more intense lesson…”

Ben smirked softly pulling the girl to sit on his lap as he deepened the kiss, running a hand through her (h/l) (h/c) locks. One of his hands sat on her hip gently rubbing small circles with his thumb while the other rested on her cheek doing the same. After a few moments, he gently nipped at her lower lip, soliciting a soft moan from (Y/N) as she slowly shifted to straddle the actor, arms wrapping around his neck. Ben groaned, his hands flying to her hips, as his tongue forced its way into her mouth, leaving no corner untouched as he deepened the kiss, each one getting more and more ravenous and desperate to than the last. Slowly he started to guide her hips to rock against his as he pulled back, his kisses moving down her jaw to her neck. He gently kissed at her neck trying to find her sweet spot. The blond smirked against her tender flesh, knowing fully well that he had found it when she let out the most gorgeous noise that had ever had the pleasure of meeting his ears as she grinded into him just the slightest bit harder. “Ben…” She moaned which made the actor groan. Her voice moaning his name made the actor all the hungrier and more desperate for her as he pulled her down even closer to his body. Ben bit down on that spot, sucking at the flesh leaving a dark love bite, giving a spot a sweet tender kiss before repeating the process on the other side. One of his hands cautiously drifted upward, underneath the hem of her shirt to gently grip at her breast through her bra. “Ben…”

“God you’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned soliciting another moan from her as he continued to cover her neck in his marks. She moaned, her fingers threading their way into his hair, nails scratching gently at his scalp. “Tell me what you want, love.” He mumbled as his lips returned to hers, hungrily kissing her.

“I want you.” She mumbled against his lips. “I want all of you.”

Ben pulled back a moment with a mischievous look plastered to his features. “Well, aren’t you just a greedy little thing.” He teased as his hands returned to her legs, holding onto the girl as he stood up, walking them to his bedroom before laying her down on the bed. She laughed softly as he placed her down on the bed. “What’s so funny?” He smirked as he kissed her again.

“Nothing, you were right, your bed is more comfortable than the underground benches.” She giggled softly, her vivacious (e/c) orbs smiling up at him in the cutest yet irresistibly sexy way. That look alone made his trousers all the more uncomfortable as they got tighter.

He laughed, rolling his eyes at her as he played with the hem of her shirt. “Told you it would be.” The blond actor winked at her, placing another tender kiss to her lips, breaking away as he pulled her shirt up over her head before pulling off his own. “And it’s only going to get better.

“Serenade and gently play on my heartstrings, Ben.” She smiled as she pulled him down into another kiss, so he was on top of her, chest to chest as he resumed grinding his hips against hers.

“Just say the word your wish is my command.”

Part 4 (coming soon)

As (y/n) thinks about all the times they played video games, she swears she can hear Ben's voice in her head as he tries to prove his right against Jesse and her, convinced that the twins were cheating. In fact, he was just a sore loser. He's never been a talented gamer, but still he could not accept it - not even to this day. Every time they get together, at least one round of their favourite video game is a must. And he always complains by the end of it.

Other times they just have a movie marathon - and thanks to (y/n)'s persuasive methods, they often watch her all time favourite movie, Shrek, even though they've already seen it at least 12 times -, or go ice skating or have a snowball fight when it's winter. Childish? It might be, but they never cared about how they might look from the outside. They only cared about having fun.

Last night they got together again, this time in her apartment, after what felt like forever - Ben had been away shooting his newest movie -, still, it was as if no time has passed. Conversation flowed without a hitch, endless laughter filling the air of her home, a huge amount of (mostly alcoholic) drinks and food were consumed, and the whole living room and kitchen were a complete mess by the time Jesse has announced that he had to leave.

(y/n) still remembers how she glanced around the ruins she had to tidy up and the loud sigh that left her lungs, and how Ben immediately offered his help - and the way his words made her heart flutter. They eventually finished cleaning quite fast, and in temporary exhaustion they slumped down onto her couch accompanied by two glasses of wine, in the end somehow ending in her bed.

Ben is one of her greatest friends, and her crush of many, many years. And now after sleeping with him, this whole friendship could disappear - the thought makes her genuinely scared. Would it make things turn awkward between the two of them? One night stands usually end in embarrassment and the original friendship fading away - at least that's what others say.

And it was a one night stand only, right? Or would it turn into some friends with benefits situation?

(y/n) feels the skin on her forehead wrinkle into a frown as the thought appears in her head. Would she like that to happen? It's one thing to have a crush on your best friend, another to sleep with him, but to be friends with benefits? That could possibly break her heart. Having Ben's friendship, his body, but not his heart.

Or would it be fine? Better than what they have now?

Grabbing the handles she carefully makes her way back to the bedroom, placing Ben's tea on the bedside table before she goes around the bed to sit down on the empty side. Her lips instinctively curve into a loving smile as she takes in the sight of the peacefully sleeping man, the most adorable that she had ever seen him be. For a minute or so she just sits motionless, absorbing the feeling and pretending it's nothing special, that it happens every morning. Then with her free hand she reaches out and gently taps his upper arm where it moved out from under the covers.

As her fingers subconsciously play with the mugs sitting in front of her on the counter, her skin accidentally comes in contact with the tea itself as a bit spills out - it's not burning hot, but it's uncomfortable enough to bring her back from the world of her thoughts to the present.

With a quick glance at the clock on the wall she realises how she's already been standing there, waiting for the teabags to brew for almost twice the time they actually need. She swiftly gets rid of the bags and flavours one of the drinks how she knows Ben loves his tea and one how she likes it.

Ben wakes up to the smell of his favourite tea and her voice and he instantly feels overwhelmed with love. The sensation is something he never wants to stop. His heart flutters and warmth fills his whole body as his eyes slowly open. Glancing around and rubbing his eyes to get rid of the sleepiness, he sees her sitting there and suddenly he becomes very well aware of the thoughts previously filling his heart and mind.

He felt love? It's only (y/n). He has never looked at her like that. She's his friend. Jesse's twin sister. Nothing more. She never was. Or was she?

"Good morning," the girl says with a soft smile playing on her lips and Ben mumbles something back in response.

"You know, I think we should talk," she continues, and it's only in this very moment that Ben realises how under the covers he's naked and that she's wearing the same outfit as she did last night and that he's in her bed and that he has a faint memory of the two of them-

Wait.

Why did they sleep together? Why did he woke up feeling like he loves her? Why do none of his thoughts make sense?

He can't decipher the emotions flowing in his body and he's unable to say anything even when (y/n) points at the cup of tea steaming on the bedside table. He mindlessly reaches out and holds it to his lips, cautiously taking a sip - and he almost hums at how amazing it tastes. Exactly how he likes it.

(y/n) knows his favourite tea and just exactly how much sugar he puts in it, and that he prefers tea instead of coffee in the morning. The thought makes his heart flutter again, and just like that he's back to thinking deep again, his eyes boring into hers, still completely silent.

How much she loves Shrek and how willing he is to watch it a million times more even though he knows every second of it by heart - it doesn't matter if that's what she wants. How her eyelashes flutter against the skin of his cheeks when she presses a small kiss on his cheek whenever they sayvgoodbye. How she drinks as much as him - and he drinks quite a lot - and can handle it amazingly, something that girls rarely do. How she cares about him and his wellbeing, whether it's physical or mental, and how she tries to get him to stop smoking. How she practically commands him to take a break when he's obviously too exhausted, even when they're on two other sides of the planet and she can only sense his tiredness from his texts or a FaceTime call. How she listens to him whenever he just has to talk to someone about the things piling in his mind and chest. How she hates the smell of smoke and how her nose crunches in that adorable way when she feels it in the air. How sad she always looks whenever he announces that another movie came up and he has to leave for months again, but not saying a single word about it, supporting him no matter what. How hopeful she sounds when she asks him over the phone if he'll be home by the next week.

Does he love her? Has he been in love with his best friend's twin sister this whole time? Well, with his own best friend? How could he never have noticed? He tries to think back at the previous years and immediately realises how many small details he instinctively noticed and memorised about her.

The changes of her eye colour, from warm to cold, excited to bored or even sad, sometimes changing along with the seasons. The way her hair flows when she moves her head or when she flicks it over her shoulder, or when the wind blows through the beautiful (y/h/c) locks, and even the smell of her shampoo as it flows in the air towards his nostrils.

(y/n) watches patiently as he slowly finishes his drink until there's nothing left in the cup, curiously waiting for what he has to say - even more so when he starts staring at her so intently. Oh, the things she would do and the money she'd pay if she could just hear what's going on in his head right now.

Out of nowhere Ben starts moving, placing the cup back on the bedside table before lifting the covers and swiftly standing up, not even caring about the fact that he's naked. With a couple fast movements he gets dressed and moves towards the door of the bedroom. (y/n)'s eyes widen in confusion as she watches him march out.

Then without another word he continues his rush across her apartment, and the next - and last - things she hears are him pulling his shoes on and getting out of the front door. The sound of the slight slam echoes through the sudden silence as the girl still stares at the spot Ben was just standing in.

In the doorway he abruptly stops and turns back around, looking at her again, as if he's just remembered her presence. "Thank you for the tea, it was amazing. I need to go think now."

The young man doesn't stop until he's on the beach, the place he always went to when he needed to clear his head and talking to (y/n) wasn't an opportunity. The sound of the waves crashing into the shore has always been able to calm him, and the sight of the seemingly endless body of water in front of him has helped him focus. He paces up and down on an about twenty yard long portion of the beach for hours, trying to figure out what he thinks and what he feels.

All of a sudden he feels sure what he should do and how he should do it and he jumps up, making his way home, with the pebble sitting in his palm, his fingers closed tight around it.

The more thoughts come to his mind, the more sure he grows that he indeed has been in love with her for years - if not forever. He had just always been too dumb to notice. Squatting down he buries his face in his palms, groaning as realisation sets in.

He rubs his eyes and the skin of his cheeks with his fingers, trying to figure out what to do now. Trying to figure out how the girl might feel about him. When his eyes open again, the first thing his eyes fall upon is a small, heart-shaped pebble and he takes it in-between his fingers, rolling it around, examining it from every side, and there's only one thought in his mind. (y/n).

- - - - - - the next day - - - - - - -

(y/n) still doesn't know how to feel. Disappointed? Upset? Angry? The boy ran out the door without a word - well, basically he said he needed to think, but what the hell does that mean? They should've talked about it, to get to know how the other felt about the situation, but he didn't give it the slighest chance. And now she sits on her couch unable to concentrate on anything, trying to figure out what she's done wrong that caused the otherwise always kind and gentle and caring man to leave her like this - so unlike him.

The sound of her doorbell ringing wakes her from her thoughts and she pushes herself up, making her way to the door - but her mind stays focused on one thing. Him. That's why as the door opens and her eyes take in the sight of Ben standing there, she feels like her eyes gave up properly working and only see what her mind tells them to.

Without a word Ben reaches out with both of his hands, grabbing one of hers, and after turning it so her palm is facing up, he places something inside it. It feels cold and instantly sends a shiver down her spine as she remains frozen, doing nothing but stare at him in question. The man just signals with his head towards her hand, still not saying anything.

(y/n) looks down and raises her hand closer to her eyes so she can observe the necklace better. The medallion that hangs from a simple silver chain is a small pebble, one that's shaped like a heart. It's obviously handmade. Her lips fall open as she lifts her head again to look at Ben. What is this and what does he want with it?

And then finally he speaks - though for a moment its effect is the opposite of what she wants, because instead of finally understanding things he just confuses her even more.

"I love you," he says, his voice soft and warm. The look in his eyes is almost as intense as it was the morning before, only a bit more obviously filled with love, and (y/n) immediately knows he doesn't mean it just like friends. She can't help but gasp, her heartbeat picking up the pace in no time as she blinks, trying to process this new information.

A couple seconds pass in silence again with Ben patiently waiting for her to react in any way. He knows it must be quite a shock for her to hear him say these three words, whatever her feelings are. And he's happy to give her all the time she needs, he has nowhere to go, nowhere to be. Now that he finally knows what he's feeling, everything seems so much easier.

(y/n) turns around, and for the shortest moment Ben's afraid she'll leave him there without an answer, but she doesn't take any steps, instead reaches up with her hands on either side of her neck, speaking up at last.

"Can you put it on for me?"

"It's my heart," he mumbles, quiet so he doesn't break the special moment. "And it's yours."

A new wave of hope flows through Ben as his hands automatically rise, and after he takes the necklace in-between his fingers and pushes her hair out of the way, he secures the handmade jewel around her neck.

When he lets it fall and she slowly moves to turn back around, he subconsciously holds his breath back. As she comes to a stop, now facing him again, his eyes immediately move lower, watching as the pendant falls delicately at the top of her cleavage in the tank top she's wearing. It looks like the pebble's only purpose on this planet was to end up hanging from her neck.

"Even though what you said is sickeningly cheesy, I love it," (y/n) giggles before taking a step closer, reaching out to touch his arms, and as her hands move further and further up, she continues speaking. "And I love the necklace. And I love you."

She smiles up at him sheepishly, gripping his biceps for support as she pushes herself up on her toes. Ben moves instinctively and their lips meet halfway in a soft and loving kiss - the first of many more.

.::the end::.

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