#borhapfanfic

              It was closing in on 10am when you rubbed your eyes open.  Snuggled between the big window at the back of the bus and Roger, covered in a rainbow of blankets and wearing one of his shirts, you pushed yourself up onto your elbow. The movement woke Roger and he let out a gruff, quiet “mornin’”.  Brushing your hair behind your shoulder, you leaned in to peck a kiss on his cheek.

              “Good morning,” you smiled.  You loved the way his golden hair splayed out over the pillows.

              “What time is it?” asked the drummer, covering his eyes from the sun sprinkling in through the window with the back of his arm. You glanced up at the clock hanging above the cabin door.

              “Almost ten,” you answered.  Roger groaned and rolled over, pulling one of the seemingly infinite amount of blankets over his head.  You giggled and ducked under it with him.  “We should probably get up, I think I can hear Freddie and Brian arguing over scrabble again.”

              “They’re both just mad that I beat them last game,” Roger scoffed.  “I really don’t fancy going out there right now.”

              “What do you fancy then?” you asked, a cheeky smile on your lips.  The blond gave you an equally cheeky grin, running a hand up your bare leg.

              “I think you know exactly what I fancy,” he smirked as his hand made its way up to the lace of your underwear.  Tugging at it gently, he rolled on top of you, both of you still underneath the blanket.

              “I’m not…  sure I do,” you stammered as he started nibbling your ear.  You could feel him smirk against your cheek as his hand continued fiddling with your underwear.  Your hands had found their way into his soft, albeit tangled, blond locks and if you weren’t already lost in what Roger was doing with his tongue you probably would have laughed.  The two of you probably looked like some monstrous squirming pile of blankets to any unfortunate onlookers.  Pulling the drummer away from your earlobe, you reached your lips up to kiss him. Eyes fluttering shut, you could have melted there under the blankets in the back of the tour bus; it was heaven.

              “I fancy-“ Roger said between kisses.  “-you.”  

              His hand had finally succeeded in tugging down your lacey underwear and you were sure it was now going to be impossible to find them again in the jungle of blankets, clothes, and pillows.  You couldn’t help but let out a little gasp as his knuckles brushed up between your legs.  

              “Especially when you do that.”

              You could feel your blood blush your cheeks a deep scarlet.  You could play that game.  Pulling one hand from his blond hair, you started rubbing his length through his underwear eliciting a moan from his lips.  

              “You’re a cheeky one,” Roger managed to chuckle, obviously distracted by what you were doing.

              “I think you’re rubbing off on me –oh!” you replied snarkily, only to be interrupted by Roger’s fingers massaging between your thighs.  

              “Maybe it’s because of all the-“ at this the drummer jerked his hips against your hand, finishing his sentence without words and eagerly looking for more pressure.  You wrapped your leg over his, angling yourself better for his digits, peppering kisses down his neck towards his collarbone.  You were realizing how natural everything felt with Roger.  It had always been sort of electrifying or callous with Mark, despite being together for a handful of years, kisses never felt natural.  Maybe it was just because Roger was obviously so much more experienced.  The way your legs felt like butter when his hand ran down your back.  The way you shuddered in delight when his kisses started to fall anywhere south of your lips.  The way your instincts just took over when he pressed his body against yours.  You had never wanted that, felt that, with Mark. You heard Roger let out another moan against your neck as you continued to stroke him through the fabric of his briefs.

              “You’re a tease,” he muttered darkly, his morning voice gruff and strained.  

              “And you’re not?” you squeaked back as the drummer finally pushed his fingers into you.  His other hand was in your hair now.  You took a moment to move your hand up the elastic of Roger’s briefs, tugging them down.  He visibly pouted at the loss of contact and you bit back a smile.

              “I still love it when you do that,” he commented sweetly, referring to the biting of your lip, as he brushing hair from your face under the blanket.  The little bit of sunlight filtering in through the blanket from outside outlined the sheen of sweat on Roger’s forehead.  It was getting awfully warm under the blankets. With a mischievous grin, your used the weight of your leg and hand that was on Roger’s chest to flip him over onto his back.  Straddling him under the blanket, you were about to pull down his underwear and finally get to what you both wanted when the door to the cabin slammed open and Freddie sauntered in.

              “Roger, darling-“ he started but stopped at the sight of the writhing and now laughing pile of blankets.  Roger threw off your cover and both your sweaty heads emerged.

              “Bit busy, Fred,” the drummer said, waving him off. You could feel more and more heat emanating off your cheeks the longer Freddie looked at the two of you.

              “Oh don’t stop on my account,” the singer continued.  “I was just coming to tell the both of you there’s pancakes.  And that I just beat Brian at scrabble.”  At this he grinned triumphantly.  You and Roger exchanged smiles and then you laughed.

              “We’ll be out in a minute,” you promised Freddie, hands resting on Roger’s chest.  

              “A minute?  Is that all Roger takes these days…” muttered Freddie as he left the room and closed the door.  Once he was gone, Roger turned to you.

              “I’m going to kill that poncy bugger,” he said darkly.

              “I don’t know, he might be right,” you teased, grinding against him and drawing out a moan from the drummer.  But as soon as you started you stopped, throwing the blanket completely off and climbing out of bed.  Rummaging around on the floor through piles of clothes, you finally tracked down a fresh pair of underwear and shimmied them on.  Moving back to Roger, you kissed him on the forehead quickly before digging in another pile for something to wear.  Tracking down a dress you hadn’t worn yet, you turned your back to Roger and pulled his shirt up over your shoulders.

              “Turn around,” the blond pleaded, getting out of bed just enough to pull you towards him by the hip.  You refused and pushed his hand away.

              “Rog, we should really go eat breakfast,” you insisted, pulling the dress over your shoulders and tossing Roger’s shirt back at him.  He smacked the shirt from the air onto the floor and then dug around with you for a pair of pants.  Once both of you were decent, you did the walk of embarrassment out to the rest of the bus.

                Freddie and Mary were together opposite Brian who was arguing with Freddie over scrabble some more.  Mary had a paper plate of pancakes in her lap and was pointing a fork at the scrabble board.  John was sprawled out on one of the other seats with his base in his hands, plucking away absently and occasionally scribbling something on a napkin.

              “Nice of you to finally join us, Rog,” Brian remarked, pealing his eyes away from the board.  Roger just flipped him the bird and pulled you closer to him.  Pouring maple syrup on your pancakes you basked in the situation.  Here you were, just an ordinary girl from Vancouver who had convinced her friends to move to England for school who was now not only dating Roger Taylor, but touring with them across Europe.  It was then that you remembered you hadn’t called your friends yesterday.  

                When the tour bus finally rolled into the city where Queen was performing that day, you scurried out with a handful of coins looking for the nearest payphone.  Sliding the coins into the slot and hearing them rattle at the bottom, the familiar buzz reached your ear.

              “Hello?”  It was Sharon on the other end.

              “Shar!”

              “Y/N you didn’t call yesterday, what happened?”

              “I’m sorry, I was just so busy!  Things have been so crazy this last week I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” you told her.  There was a pause on the other end of the line.

              “You promise you won’t forget about us?” your friend’s voice quiet.  

              “Shar, I could never forget about you guys!  You’re my best friends!” you promised.

              “I just don’t want you to forget who your friends are.”

              The way Sharon spoke made you slightly angry. You hummed a response into the receiver, hoping it was enough to satisfy Sharon but you doubted it would.  

              “Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

              “I will.”

              You could hear the click of the redhead hanging up on you, and you did the same.  Sharon made it sound like she, Heather, and Patricia were jealous of you hanging out with Queen and it worried you.  You loved your friends and it wasn’t as if you were abandoning them, they still had each other.  Plus you were adults now, you weren’t in high school anymore, you were bound to part ways at some point.  Collecting yourself and thinking of Roger waiting in his dressing room, you left the phone booth and thoughts of your friends.  

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