Body Language. Queen

Boxers.

Roger's P.O.V.

As much as I was looking forward to spending the first night in our new home, sleep didn't seem to be on my to do list.

No matter how hard I tried to shut off my brain and sleep it just wouldn't let me be.

I had so many different thoughts buzzing about my mind, things I needed to get for the house and things I needed to do in it, jobs I had to do for the album...but...the topic dominating my head was the conversation I had had with Freddie earlier.

I had been wanting to ask him those questions for so long but never found the excuse to. Never thought he would actually sit me down and talk to me about it properly. In a jokey way I would have expected but for him to get a little red faced over a few of the topics well...he really was taking it seriously.

I hate to admit it, I thought it was dreadfully cute when Fred started blushing on the odd occasion and he would hide his smile when he got all embarrassed. I did hate when he did that. I wish he wouldn't worry about how his teeth looked. They were wonderful to me and...

You fucking idiot, Roger.

Stop complimenting Freddie and focus your energy on John. He's the one you want. Not Freddie.

And it was true. Since climbing into bed it was those scenarios that Fred had described to me that I was picturing in my mind with John.

Allowing my mind to stray and create devilish images in my head about what John might look like naked.

It was wrong of me. I was simply skipping over the parts of us dating and being cute with each other to focus on the parts where I get to fuck him.

Of course I wanted to go all the way with John. I wanted to ask him out on date after date, getting to know each other...I mean, we already knew each other really well but like getting to know each other really well, one on one. I wanted to have those tingles down my spine the first time we hold hands and giggle nervously...I wanted my heart to thud out of my chest when I realise our heads are moving closer together and I figure that we're going to kiss for the first time.

I wanted to shake uncontrollably when asking him to finally be my boyfriend.

I wanted to get in bed tentatively, making sure I don't take up too much room when we share a bed together for the first time.

I wanted us to stare lustfully at each other and finally approach something sexual.

I wanted to kiss him roughly whilst clambering on top of him, ripping the duvet off of our hot bodies and going on to rip off his pyjamas.

I wanted to hear his little grunts of impatience whilst I teased him, sitting on his crotch and lightly grinding on his growing dick.

I wanted to feel that hint of fear mixed in with mostly adrenaline and want when I realise that it actually was about to happen.

I wanted to have the argument with myself where my brain was telling me not to but my dick was telling me otherwise.

I wanted to take of his boxers and finally see what he had been hiding. I wanted to start kissing him again whilst leaning over him, one hand holding the weight of my body whilst the other travelled blindly across his bare flesh, his body fidgeting with anticipation until at last...I let my wandering fingers wrap around his length.

I wanted him to gasp into our kiss and I wanted to feel his breath accelerate.

I wanted to carry on until he...

My eyes snapped open and I let out my own deep breath. Kicking the duvet off my sweaty body...it appears my brain was rather talented at making these images seem far too real. The single image of making John orgasm and making him groan my name tipped me over the edge and I had to stop.