It's the fantastic drowse
Of the afternoon Sundays
That bored you to rages of tears
The unending pleadings
To waste all your good times
In thoughts of your middle-aged years
A/N: thank you for reading my new story! It will be focusing on Ben!Roger Taylor mostly. It's inspired by the movie Bohemian Rhapsody so it probably isn't going to be completely historically accurate. I don't want to give too much of the storyline away but it's going to be intense, complicated and dramatic. Enough talking, let's get on with it! Hope you'll like it! WARNING: light smut WORDS: 2.7k +
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HAMMERSMITH, LONDON,1975
It was a cold Sunday afternoon. It was 4 o'clock and it being February meant the sun was going to set soon. The orange sun looked watery through the hazy skies. A pinkish colour was shining through the half closed curtains of the bedroom. It currently was the only source of light in the room. And the only noise that could be heard were the sounds from the cars driving by outside. The rambling of the train at the nearby tube station. The clicking of heels on the pavement. And two steady breaths, coming from two people laying in the old and squeaky bed.
Two blondes were cuddled up against each other. One of the blondes was Roger Taylor. He was laying on his back, a cigarette in his left hand whilst his right was stroking the long blonde hair of the girl next to him. She was at least 9 inches shorter than him. He had his arm wrapped around her shoulder whilst she was laying on her side and had her head resting on his bare chest. One of her legs was intertwined with one of the drummer's legs. The cream coloured sheets were lazily resting on his hips and covering the female next to him up to her midriff. She had her eyes closed and was slowly trailing her finger over his chest. Roger took a long drag of his cigarette and kept stroking her long hair, slightly massaging her scalp with his fingers, earning an approving hum from the woman. He smirked as he blew out a cloud of smoke.
"I could stay like this all day." She mumbled, her eyes still closed. "Why don't we then?" Roger said quietly in a hoarse voice. She chuckled a little. "You've been here for about four hours already.. don't you think she's going to wonder where you are?" She asked. "Nah," He replied and took another drag of his fag. "I told her I was going to the studio, so..." "Hmm," She replied and looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest now. "Still got some time then." She nonchalantly moved her body on top of his and kissed his plumb lips. The blonde drummer kissed her back, smiling against her soft ones. As she pulled back she took the cigarette from his hand took a quick drag herself, closing her eyes as she exhaled the smoke. The girl grinned and popped the stick back between his lips.
"You're just so beautiful, Sarah." He said as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Roger placed his thumb on her chin and directed her face closer to his lips. It was a lazy yet passionate kiss, but nothing too intense. Sarah could still taste some of the alcohol on his lips he had drunk before they got on with their previous activities. He had been quite tempered when he arrived at her place and insisted on a drink (or two). She dug her hands into his messy blonde hair, making him moan a little in response. He smelled of expensive cologne, mixed with cigarette smoke and something else that she couldn't quite place. It was just a scent of his own. It instantly made her want more, it always did. Little did she know he was loving the smell of her just as much. To him she always smelt fresh and clean, it probably was her shampoo mixed with the perfume she'd always wear: floral and musky. There also was a hint of sweetness to her. Like peaches.
