Roger Taylor Smut

babysitter

Requested by: tragic70s 

"But I don't need a babysitter anymore!" I cried out to my mother as she put earrings on, "I'm seventeen!"

"It's just so that I know you won't make any bad choices." Was her pretty stupid excuse.

"What do you think I'm gonna do?" I asked. She shrugged her shoulders and did a once-over in the mirror.

"He seemed like a nice lad when I spoke to him over the phone. I think he said he was eighteen."

"Mom," I said. "That's a little pathetic, you know."

All she did was roll her eyes. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and we went downstairs as my dad went to open it. 

"Hello, you must be Roger." My dad said and stuck his hand out for the boy to shake. When I realised who he was, I wanted to die of embarrassment.

"And you must be Y/N," He said walking over to me and shaking my hand.

"Hi, Roger," I said. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Oh, do you two know each other?" My mom asked. 

"Yes mom, Roger goes to high school with me," I said, giving her a death stare. 

"Oh! Splendid! The two of you'll have an awesome time together!" Now it was my time to roll my eyes at her. 

I never talked to Roger much at school. I had math and science with him, and he was very smart. He wasn't the most popular, but he had a fair amount of friends. I always thought he was cute, but my friends liked to opt for the more popular boys.

"Well, you two behave and we'll be back around eleven o'clock." My dad said. 

"Thank you again, Roger." My mom said.

"It's no problem," Roger said with a smile. 

My mom waved as she and my dad left, and I resisted the urge to give her the finger.

"So, how have you been?" Roger asked, following me into the living room.

"Fine thanks, and you?" I replied.

"I've been good." He answered. "I have a question, though."

"Go ahead," I said, having a feeling of what the question might be. 

"How come your parents hired you a baby sister? You're my age and I don't need one." I had a feeling he would ask this.

"I used to have a different baby sister, but she quit because she told my parents she wouldn't babysit a seventeen-year-old. I don't know what they think I'm gonna do while they're gone." Roger nodded his head. 

"You fancy Black Sabbath?" I said walking over to the record player.

"Yeah." He answered.

"Good," I said and put on their first album, Black Sabbath. 

"Talk to me," I said going to sit back down beside him. 

"About what?" He asked. 

"I don't know, anything. Do you play a sport? Any instruments?" 

"I don't play any sports, but I do play the drums and a bit of the guitar. Electric."

"That's cool! I play the electric guitar too! I've always wanted to learn the drums, though." I said.

"I could teach you sometime, I played the guitar since I was ten and the drums since I was twelve."

"I've played since I was thirteen," I said, lying down on the couch and resting my feet on Roger's thighs. He rested his hands on top of my ankles and rubbed slow circles with his thumb.