Somebody To Love (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor fanfic)

seventy four

look at his smile

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"Oh, come on Roger!" Rebecca yells over her shoulder, "It's not even that steep!"

"Not that steep?" he cries, "It's practically a vertical slope."

She rolls her eyes and comes to a halt so she can wait for him.

"I can't believe this is what you want to do on our honeymoon."

"It's good for you," she laughed as he caught up.

"You know what else is good for you? Sex. Sex is very good for you and it's what we should be doing all day, every day."

She laughs as she listens to him trying to catch his breath and she puts her hand on his arm, "Maybe you should think about laying off the cigs."

"Never."

"There's a bench up ahead that we can sit on," she tells him, "Can you make it?"

"Of course I can," he muttered, "I'm not that unfit."

They had been with a small group of other guests who were taking the land tour with them and out of them all, she and Roger looked like the most unprepared. Some of them were fully kitted out for this; plethoras of walking sticks and hiking boots on display while all she and Roger had on were a pair of decent shoes and their camera.

It was fair to say that it wasn't long before the group, along with their tour guide, left them.
Reaching the bench, Rebecca sat down while Roger fell onto it.

"Feel like I'm gonna pass out," he breathed, resting his head back, "Fucking hell."

"Rog, open your eyes."

"Can't." he winces when she smacks his thigh, "Ow! Wha-" he stops when he actually does open his eyes.

The view is spectacular. From where they are, they can see everything; the resort, the mainland and they can even see people paddle boarding.

"Wow," he whispers and Rebecca nods in agreement.

"I know," she keeps her voice just as quiet, not noticing how he reaches for the camera that's on the bench between them but her head whips sound at the sound of the shutter.

"Roger," she groans when she sees he's pointing it at her but he shakes his head.

"Wait, wait. Lemme take a polaroid too."

Ooft, he used the expensive camera. She feels special. Normally that's only reserved for picturesque views like the one in front of them.

"Can't believe we're halfway through," he murmured, "You think we could just stay here?"

"Freddie and the boys might have something to say about that," she laughs, "Which reminds me, we need to find them some gifts."

"Deaky never got us a gift."

"They didn't have a honeymoon," Rebecca says, "It doesn't have to be anything fancy."

"Perfect. A fridge magnet will do them fine then." he never was good at buying people, other than Rebecca, gifts and she rolls her eyes for what is probably the tenth time that day.

"I'll get the gifts."

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They knew that it had to rain at some point during their stay but Rebecca really wished that Mother Nature had waited until after their whale watching.

Obviously, they didn't go out and spent most of the day in the bungalow until Roger suggested that they go along to the bar that was in the resort to which she eagerly agreed.

Rebecca stands in front of the mirror, hands smoothing down the front of her dress that she bought especially for the trip.

It's black, cut quite low at the neckline and it shows off a lot more leg than she's used to but she thinks she looks fantastic in it and clearly Roger thinks so too."

"Are you trying to get the attention of everyone in this place?"

"Maybe," she grins as he wraps his arms around her.

She looks absolutely beautiful like this; skin brown from spending the last few days out in the sun, no makeup and with her hair down in its natural curls, something he doesn't get to see very often. And she has the most fantastic legs.

They're normally hidden by jeans or by longer skirt but he's thrilled that she's packed nothing of the sort for this trip.

"You should wear your hair like this more often," he whispers, gently toying with the ends of it, "I love your curls."

She smiles and rests her hands on his arm, "Thank you. I'll just put on some lipstick and then we can go."

"Nope," he shakes his head, "Don't wear it. You don't need it, love." He turns her so she's looking at him, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin of her cheek, "Beautiful without it."

When there's a brief halt in the rain, the two of them make their escape from the bungalow and make the short walk down toward the resort and inside the bar, Rebecca goes to find a table while he gets the drinks in. 

Compared to all the other bars she's been in, there's an air of sophistication in this one and she can't help but feel that she's a little out of place. 

Roger returns with a bottle of champagne and she tuts as he sits down, making him raise an eyebrow, "What?"

"We've gotta stop drinking this stuff. How am I supposed to go back to crappy cheap wine when we go home?"

"You'll never have to drink crappy wine again," he vows, "How many times, Bex. 'm gonna take care of you."

Conversation flows easily between the two, just like it always does and it's not long before the bottle is finished and Roger suggests that they move on to some cocktails.  

Rebecca's favourite. They taste just like juice but get you hammered in no time at all.  

She gets up to go to the bar while Roger stays put, watching as she leans against the bar.  

He wonders if feeling this sappy will continue after they return home to London. Because he just can't stop looking at her. 

And apparently, neither can some of the other men in here. 

He watches as one, after a couple of minutes, bravely approaches her and strikes up a conversation.

And she's polite about it, she always is and they talk quietly for a little bit before she's holding up her left hand, showing off her wedding band and nodding in Roger's direction and when the man looks, he raises his almost empty glass. 

The man's eyes widen in recognition, turning back to Rebecca to question if he is in fact, the Roger Taylor from Queen and then Rebecca's leading him back to the table once she's got the drinks. 

"Roger," she smiles, sitting down beside him once more, ignoring the glare he's giving her. 

She knows he hates it when they're interrupted when they're supposed to be out on a date. 

"This is William," she continues, sipping her drink. 

"It's nice to meet you," William almost gushes, "I-I'm a huge fan. A Night at the Opera, what an album."

"Thank you," Roger says sincerely. 

"I won't keep you long, Rebecca tells me you're on your honeymoon."

"Well, thanks again," Roger smiles, relaxing somewhat and before William leaves them alone, he even signs a napkin. 

"You know I hate it when you do that," he mutters, nipping gently at her ear. 

She kissed his cheek lightly, "I do."

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i genuinely feel that this is the most unromantic honeymoon ever but i promise, they did have some fun but i'm just really not in the mood to write smut, y'know?