John had beaten him by the fraction of a second and Roger had never been so angry. He had won the past four races and a win today would have meant not only staying on top of the ranking but also extend his lead by a good amount. But John Deacon had ruined it and while he was still on top, John was right behind him and they only had a handful of more races this season. 

With his luck, it would probably end up like last season and it would be a really close call. Last year, Roger had come out on top but Deacon had updated his crew and something had changed as his team worked much more smoothly. It could get really tough this year and Roger was angry about it. 

    “Hey, you spoiled brat! Do you think we have enough back up helmets for your hissy fits? Take better care of your equipment!”

Crystal threw a water bottle at him but Roger managed to catch it and flipped him off before drinking half of the bottle in big gulps. His eyes were drawn back to John and their eyes met. 

He grinned- all smug and proud, that bastard- and Roger growled, turning away and chugging the rest of his water. The bottle was thrown into the trash with much more force than necessary. 

Crystal showed up again with Roger’s helmet under his arm and a towel in one hand. He pushed it into his face and ignored the blond’s yelp as he rubbed his face down. Roger kicked at him and Crystal backed off, laughing and Roger swatted at him half-heartedly. 

    “Clean up! The trophy ceremony starts in five minutes!” 

He scoffed but washed his face before making his way towards the podium. He was stopped several times by people who wanted to congratulate him and he put on his best fake smile because he was still so angry but he didn’t want to let out his bad mood at them. Especially the fans didn’t deserve that when they just asked for autographs or pictures.

Eventually, he made it to the podium where John and the third place, Tim Staffel, were waiting, talking animatedly with some other people Roger didn’t recognize. 

They were ushered up their respective places and got their trophies under loud cheers and Roger was almost blinded by the camera flashes. And then it was time for Roger’s favorite part: spraying champagne everywhere. 

It lifted his spirits momentarily as he was too busy getting getting the viewers and especially the big officials drenched. It was fun until he made his way back to the podium, thoroughly wet himself- thanks, Tim- where he was confronted by John. He was grinning, tooth gap visible and eyes crinkling and Roger’s smile froze. 

He didn’t look smug now. That was the worst part. He was all proud and smug around Roger but at the ceremonies and the interviews he was always so genuinely happy and it made it hard being mad at him. Because Roger knew how it felt like.

Something crossed over John’s face and Roger was about to make a comment about it but then he grabbed his face and brought his champagne bottle to Roger’s mouth. 

He had no idea what was happening but he could hear the people cheer and he just swallowed what John poured into his mouth, their eye contact never breaking.The whole thing lasted only a couple of seconds but it dumbfounded him enough that he stumbled backwards when John let go of him, his mouth full of champagne. 

After the podium ceremony, Roger was ushered away by Crystal to a more secluded area for a round of interviews. 

He managed to pull through them despite the fact that his head was still reeling and when Crystal showed up again to pull him aways, he was relieved. All he wanted was a shower and a nap. 

After leading him towards the changing room, Crystal said his goodbyes and left him alone. For a moment, Roger played with the thought of taking a shower here but he knew once he got under the warm water he wouldn’t want fall asleep pretty soon.

With a sigh, he finally got out of his racing suit, dropping it to the floor and reached for his dark jeans. He slipped into a soft green sweatshirt and attempted to tame his hair but it was pretty useless. 

He was just slipping into his boots when the door opened. He thought maybe it was someone from the crew who needed something or maybe an over enthusiastic reporter- it had happened before- but when he looked up, John Deacon was standing there. 

He had changed, too, and was wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a loose, white button-down instead of his yellow racing suit. Roger blinked. 

    “What are you doing here?” he asked.

Roger didn’t had the energy to have a fight with John right now but he could feel the irritation and anger underneath his exhaustion. 

    “You were good today.” 

John leaned against the wall, arms crossed with a small smile on his face. Roger scoffed and stuffed his jacket that was still in his locker in his bag and zipped it up a little bit harsher than he probably should have. 

“Thanks.” he sneered. “I try to be good at my job. It kind of got me here.” 

He couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy! What was wrong with him that he just showed up in Roger’s changing room to make even more fun of him? He threw his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his racing suit to place it where the crew could pick it up for cleaning. 

A warm hand on his arm stopped him and he yanked it free with a growl, swirling around angrily. 

    “What? Anything else? Want to make fun of me? I’m fucking tired, leave me alone, Deacon!” 

John looked taken aback at that and Roger waited for a second just to see if he would say anything else but he didn’t and he stormed off then, rushing to the cab that has been called for him. 

+++

Roger won the next two races. John won the race after that. Prenter won the fourth one and that was probably worse than losing against John. 

He slammed the the door of his locker shut, flinching at the loud crash. It didn’t even stayed shut, just bounced right back open and Roger pushed it close again. 

    “Be careful, you’ll hurt yourself otherwise.” 

Roger turned around and there was John again. He had left him alone after the little incident and Roger had been thankful for that even if it had weirded him out that John was doing nothing. Not even giving him one of his smirks when he caught Roger staring at him. He just did nothing. He acknowledged Roger but there was nothing of their usual rivalry. It had Roger on edge. 

    “What do you care?” he snapped. 

John frowned and shook his head. He looked sweaty, his hair clinging to his temples. Roger grabbed his water bottle and pushed past him, back into the garage just to stop dead a couple of steps into it. 

His crew wasn’t here. Usually, no matter how long Roger took to get changed, somebody was there for him to bid his farewell to, sometimes somebody still needed something from him but there was never nobody. He frowned as he had planned to use that to get rid of John. 

    “I don’t actually want to see you hurt, you know?” 

John appeared at his side again and Roger rolled his eyes at him. 

He felt himself getting irritated again. For weeks, he had left him alone. No jabs, no sneers, no smirks, no off-hand comments and now of all days, John decided to annoy him again. Roger didn’t understand him! He couldn’t wrap his head around anything John does! It wasn’t just his behaviour in the past weeks but the past years. 

Both of them had started their career early and Roger faintly remember watching John’s first race at a go-kart track when he was about sixteen. Roger himself wanted to participate but couldn’t due to a broken arm. After that, they kept running into each other at races but never really talked until both of them got into professional racing and then- somehow- it had spiraled into their rivalry. 

Roger wasn’t even sure who started it but the media ate it up and so nobody really discouraged it. 

    “Did you want anything?” Roger asked. “Because if not, I want to go back to my hotel room and take a nap.” 

    “You’re not even going to the party?” 

Roger barked out a laugh and carded a hand through his hair. He heard John chuckle. 

    “And listen to Prenter bragging and being a general dick to anyone?”

    “Isn’t he like that every day?” 

He snorted, then sighed. John was staring at him and Roger frowned, not knowing what he was supposed to do. This wasn’t what they normally did. John licked his lips, his head angled slightly to the side and it felt like he was sizing him up. Roger straightened up, squaring his shoulders which only served to make him chuckle. 

    “Do you want to work out some anger?” 

Roger blinked. John was still smiling. 

+++

John pushed him up against the wall and Roger groaned, the sound muffled by John’s mouth. He whined and pulled him closer, slipping a leg in between his and grinned when he moaned and rocked up against him. 

They grabbed, pushed and pulled at each other, stumbling through Roger’s hotel room towards the bed and losing their clothes in the progress. 

This really wasn’t how Roger had thought his day would be going like this, especially not with John Deacon of all people but when John nipped his way down his neck, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He moaned and tangled his hand in his hair. 

Their mouths found each other again, teeth clacking together and Roger swapped them around, effectively straddling John who let it happen with a grin and settled his hands on his hips. 

    “You’re gonna fuck me?” he panted and Roger nodded. 

It surprised him, if he was honest, because he had thought there would be a bit of fighting over who gets to top but John seemed more than happy to bottom, asking him where he had lube and condoms and getting them. 

Roger fingered him open thoroughly, fascinated by the way his face scrunched up in pleasure and the sounds he made. John was quiet in comparison to most of the people he had slept with but he realized he wasn’t bothered by it. 

    “Come on, Roger, get to it.” 

    “Getting impatient?” 

John wrapped his legs around his waist and pulled him close, causing him to almost lose his balance. Roger rolled his eyes at him but ripped open the condom and pulled it on. John sighed happily when he sank into him and pulled him into another kiss.

He was a great kisser, Roger had to admit. 

Once John gave him the okay to move, he set a hard and fast pace and John’s finger digged into the flesh of his shoulders in the best way. He leaned down again, muffling his moans against his lips. 

+++

Seeing his best friend and his wife makes him feel jealous of how in love they are. Of course, he and John love each other more than anything, but it's just not the same. He's not saying finally marrying John would make his life better, but he's sure it would. Right now there's not the same certainty that things won't end too soon. When you're married, it's like you automatically want to fix everything when things don't work out well. Honestly, he doesn't think they'll ever be more than boyfriends. John never shows any signs of wanting to stay with Roger forever. Hell, they've been together for three years already! It's about time something changes!

Roger could take things into his own hands and propose to John, but what if he rejects him? What if he thinks he's clingy and breaks up with him? No, it's too risky. He only hopes John notices and finally does the job, so he doesn't have to. It should be obvious how desperate Roger is for his boyfriend. The occasional hints when Brian talked about his upcoming wedding, the many times Roger stopped a little longer in front of jewelry store displays, the way he has been acting today and so on. He has wedding fever.

"Rog?" John's soft voice and brings him back to reality. "Do you wanna dance?"

Roger gives him a warm smile and takes his boyfriend's extended hand, pulling himself up from his seat. Another thing he loves about him - how he likes to dance at any given opportunity. "Anytime."

On the dance floor the younger man pulls him closer, one hand clasped with Roger's, the other on the blond's waist. John dancing like this in public is quite rare; he's more the disco type of guy when they go out, still they sometimes slow dance when they're home alone. It often involves a bit of alcohol, but there's not a single time Roger can't remember. These are the moments he loves most - when it’s just the two of them. They always give him a domestic feeling. He almost forgets they're not in private and all the other wedding guests can see them. "John?" Roger whispers, looking up into John's eyes.

"Yeah?"

He thinks for a moment about whether or not he should say what he's feeling. He decides to wait until they're back home and instead goes with the short and wider interpretable version. "I love you."

"I love you too." John spins him around and pulls him close to his chest. He stops swaying and leans down to kiss Roger, one of his hands tangling in his sandy blonde hair.

Roger laughs softly when they pull away. "You're so cheesy!"

"You know I'm not always like that," he replies with a smirk that makes Roger understand immediately what he's referring to. As innocent as the brunette seems on the outside, he's got a dirty dirty mind sometimes.

After the song ends, they make their way back to their table by the window. Back to watching everyone praise the bridal couple. He's not bitter or anything, he just wishes he could have the same with John. He wouldn't want as many guests as Brian, though. Only a nice, small wedding with close friends and family, not more. Why the fuck is he planning his wedding in his head when he's not even close to being John's fiancé? Damn, this day was supposed to be happy, but here he is, thoughts of a wedding that's not going to happen eating him up inside...

It's about midnight by the time the party's over. John's hand is constantly on Roger's thigh while he's driving, making his heart leap more than usual when he does this. When they get home, though, he immediately disappears in the bedroom. Time for a mental breakdown while John is taking a shower. Roger sits on the bed and rubs his temple, tears stinging in his eyes.

He feels like he's totally overreacting and he's pretty sure the whole situation isn't nearly as bad as he thinks it is, but he's desperate. Desperate for his boyfriend to finally show any signs that he's interested in building a future with him. Moving into a flat together was the first step, but then again most couples do that sooner or later and that was two years ago. Since then, Roger has either been bad at interpreting gestures or John wants it to stay just like this without any major changes. Then it hits him - maybe he doesn't want more to happen between him and Roger. Maybe he doesn't want him to be his husband. Does he really think their relationship is some 'side project' to Roger? John is the best thing that's happened to him besides Queen and he should know that, so if he did, it would really hurt…

Telling himself he's thinking too much only makes it worse because then he comes up with more what if questions.

Of course, you shouldn't move too fast and all, but he's one hundred percent sure about it. Literally all he wants is to be happy and make John happy for as long as they live, so why doesn't he get to do that?

He can only think about what life would be like if they did get married. He wouldn't have to worry about breaking up too quickly because they'd try harder to find a solution for any problem. He would take John on more dates than he could imagine. They would go on holiday every year. Maybe they'd even have kids - Roger sure hopes so at least. He'd give his husband everything in the world. He'd live the life he's always wanted since he and John started dating. Everything would be perfect. It would.

"Oh my God, Roger, are you okay?" Suddenly John is standing in the doorway, now wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants.

When the blond lifts his head, he can see the tears that Roger didn't even notice were streaming down his face. He really looks fucked up with his eyes on half-mast, the loose bow tie and the messy hair. John hates to see him cry, no matter the reason, but something tells him he isn't feeling good at all tonight.

"What's wrong?" he asks in a softer tone, sitting next to Roger when he doesn't get a reply.

This time Roger doesn't even think about finding an excuse. He just tells him what's going on in his head. "Are you sure you're ready for this conversation?" he mumbles, frowning at him.

The brunette nods and takes Roger's hand in his. "I only want to help you."

He straightens up a bit and sniffs. "I feel like you don't want us to be more than boyfriends. You don't seem to make a move to do something about it," he starts shakily.

"About what?"

Roger ignores John's question and continues with what he originally wanted to say. "You don't get my hints! I always stop at jewelry store displays when we go out and you just… I don't know, I wish you'd understand what I mean… You see Brian and Chrissie? I want that too! With you, for fuck's sake! I just wanna love you and make you happy and take you on dates and go on holiday together and have my own family-" He stops to wipe the tears away that are making his vision blurry. "I have fucking wedding fever, you idiot!"

"Wait a minute." John stands up and leaves the room.

Great job, Roger! Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut instead of yelling at his boyfriend for not wanting to marry him? God, he's so stupid… He prays he doesn't break up with him now.

A moment later John returns with his hands in his pockets. He looks down, nervously chewing on his lip. "That's not true, y'know?"

He takes a step closer to him and gets down on one knee. "I was planning to do this anyway…"

"Oh fuck, c'mon!" Roger cries, covering his eyes with his hands in frustration. He doesn't even know what's happening anymore. He's got to be kidding him!

John giggles and fumbles with the small box he's just pulled out of his pocket. "I was thinking of a better time and place to do this, but this idiot here does want to marry you..." Roger lets out a breathy laugh and looks down at his smiling boyfriend, his eyes wet. "Do you still want to marry me?"

The older man nods enthusiastically. When he is finally able to speak again, he whispers, "That's pretty much self-explanatory."

"So… no?" John teases, smirking.

"I don't know if I want to slap or kiss you," he mutters.

"How about kissing me first?"

Without hesitation, he pulls his boyfriend up, kissing him with more passion than ever before. He knows he loves him, even if comments like this are normal in the Taylor-Deacon household. It's what makes their relationship so weird to some strangers. "You haven't said yes," John murmurs against his lips.

"Well, how do you interpret this?" Roger pushes him on the bed and straddles his waist, leaning down to kiss his jaw as a hand wanders underneath his shirt.

“Hm… I’m not sure…”

“Yes, of course I do, dumbass!”

"At least don't leave the ring in the box!" He gently pushes his boyfriend away so he can put the diamond ring on his finger.

Roger admires it up close for a few minutes, absolutely speechless. “It’s beautiful,” he says quietly, his gaze leaving the ring to look into John’s eyes.

“A beautiful ring for a beautiful man,” he grins.

Roger (fumbling for and lighting a cigarette, sllghtly agitated): You could play and your personality wasn’t shit.

John (disappointed, but not wanting to push):  That’s that, then.

Roger (starting to relax while blowing out smoke):  When you played, we all just synced with you. It was so easy, so natural.  Loved your passion for playing and for music. We thought band life wasn’t what you craved, but we thought we could bring you around.

John (smiling, gratified with the answer): ‘M, that you did.

Roger (staring at John with a crooked grin, blowing out smoke): I thought you were just so pure, really.  So bloody lovely and polite.  But boy, you could slay with a one-liner and leave me in hysterics.  I learned not to let your sweet smile fool me. Amazed you could fix anything!  And…so easy on the eyes.  Your lithe body, long, shiny hair and those fingers.  Christ...

John (gasps slightly and gazes at Roger, surprised and flattered): Really now, that’s what you thought?

Roger:  You asked. (looking down) What, what did you think of me?

John (a little nervous, not expecting the question): Ah, well.  I thought you were, uh, talented.  Very talented. And, I liked how you tuned your drums  - very melodically precise.  And I thought you were cheeky. And very clever. So outgoing and sincerely charming.  And, I suppose, easy on the eyes.  Couldn’t believe you were real sometimes - with your wavy blonde hair, big, beautiful blue eyes, muscular arms…and, that joyful laugh…

Roger (laughing):  You SUPPOSE I was easy on the eyes??

John (pretending to be exasperated): That’s what you got from me baring my soul? Really, Rog…

Roger (putting out his cigarette): Seriously, it was a perfect fit.  We’ve had a good run, haven’t we? Great music. Fun times…

John:  Yes, we have. And I think we still have some more in us, yeah?

Roger:  Yes, I hope so.  And I am forever grateful for your parenting tips!! Speaking of which, I should call home to see how everyone is doing when we get back to the hotel.

John (checking his watch and calculating the time difference): Yes, and I’ll give Ronnie a call.  She’s probably climbing the walls right about now.

Roger (pours soda into two glasses and hands one to John, while raising the other): Before we leave: Here’s to the songs we used to sing, here’s to the times we used to know*.  To a perfect fit-And special friends.

John (raising his glass, and placing his other hand on Roger’s arm):    To knowing more great times, a perfect fit and special friends!

*Song lyric:  If You Know What I Mean, Neil Diamond