I was born to love you; froger

poodle boy

Freddies POV:

I woke up early and stretched a little, but not too much since Roger was still sleeping. His hair was sprawled all over his slim face and his lips were slightly open, moaning in his sleep every few seconds. I gently got out of bed and left a kiss on his forehead making him stir a little.

I walked downstairs and started to boil the kettle. It was only six-am and I think Roger was gonna be asleep for quite awhile because of last night. I rubbed my face in thought. What even is our relationship? This could ruin my whole career. Do I love him? 

"Morning." I chirped. Roger was in nothing but his pants he wore yesterday. He fluttered his hand at me, his eyes half shut, half open. "I have clothes in my room, Rog. Here, I'll get you a jumper. You must be freezing, darling."

I came back with a hoodie and some sweatpants. "Thank you." I smiled and put my jumper on him, taking his pants off and slipping the other ones on as well. "Mmm, smells like you." I chuckled at him and pet his head, sliding a tea over the kitchen bench.

"Oh god." He groaned.

"What?"

"My ass is so sore." He cried out. I laughed while taking a seat next to him. Only to notice my jumper he wore was pressed against his nose.

"You right?"

"Yep." He said popping the 'P'. Before I took a sip of my tea, I immediately pressed my lips against his. His hands flung up beside him in shock while he kissed back. He gently stroked the back of my hair. I felt eyes on me as my lips were attached to his. He was staring into my dark eyes with his icy blue ones. It was a loving, passionate kiss that was breathtaking- literally. I softly pulled away while Rogers eyes pierced into mine.

"What was that for?" He asked sweetly. I shrugged, simply.

"Some things stay secret darling."

-

Rogers POV:

"IM HOOOME!" I yelled, running through the door, throwing my bag in the hallway watching it skid across the floor. I slipped my shoes off and slid around in my socks, finger gunning and acting if my ass was fire. 

I pranced around the living room before putting on my favourite vinyl. I carefully placed the needle on the record, 'Too Fast For Love' by Motley Crue and soon started to pretend I could play the drums.

"What are you doing, boy!?" I heard a loud sudden voice shout. My mood struck sour and my happy grin vanished into a look of fear. I turned on my tip toes to reveal my father standing at the door with an unsatisfied look on his face. "Turn that shit off!" He referenced at my genre of choice. I ran over to the turn table, flicking the knob, in fear. My father stared at me followed by a huff and walked over to his room.

I decided to grow some balls and ask how long he was staying at home for. He travels America for work. He gets to go everywhere and anywhere for free. When he first took the job I was still a young fella, not having much of a clue what was going on. I knew it was for work, but I never knew why and I never understood how he could leave us a long period of time. The first time he left, he didn't even say goodbye to me. He didn't even give me a hug or any notice he was leaving so sudden. That's when I knew he was a cold hearted person. After that I realised he wasn't there for me and he never would be. I'm sixteen now and nothing has changed.

"How long will you be gone for?" I stood tall, slightly leaning on the door frame, glancing at the late night sky. He stared me down, trying to look intimidating and all. He glared before looking away again, turning his back on me so I couldn't see his front. I rolled my eyes at him. 

"Soon." He eventually said after a long moment of silence.

"That could mean anything." He threw his folded shirt into his suit case, dramatically turning to me. I swallowed the lump in my throat, I didn't even realise I had. 

He leaned into my face, looking deeply into my eyes before throwing his fist at me. I fell to the floor- mostly in shock. His fist hit my cheek once again as I whimpered loudly. I curled into a fetus position, cupping my cheek. He walked away, this time slamming the door after him. I ran off to my room, quietly closing my door. I ignored the tears that threatened to fall and quickly dialled Brian's number.

"Hello?" A muffled voice mumbled, followed by some sort of shuffling.

"Hey, Bri. Its Rog."

"Roger? What's up?" I heard him yawn through the phone. He must of been sleeping, it is eleven-pm after all.

"Could I come over? Stay the night?" I asked, curling the phone cord between my fingers.

"Y-Ye-Uh-Umm, yeah sure. I only have my bed though, is that alright. The couch is a bit small." He managed to chuckle and so did I.

"Of course."

"When are you coming?" I looked around my room frantically for some fucking reason.

"I'll leave now, is that alright?"

"Do you want me to get you? Its awfully cold out." 

"No, I'm fine walking, it only takes half an hour."

"Okay but if you change your mind just give me a call." (d0nT St0P mE N0w. sorry I had to continue reading lmao) 

"Thanks Bri, I'll be there soon." I hung up and put some maroon jeans on with a big brown wool jacket. I shoved my toothbrush in a small bag and sprinted out of my room. Quietly shutting the door behind me.

The streets of London were awfully cold. I blew into my hands and hopped a couple times in order to warm me up but it just didn't work. Finally I arrived at Bri's house with a quiet knock.

"Hey." He opened the door shirtless, making me desperate to look. "Fuck its cold, get inside." He pulled me inside, shutting the door. "Don't feel forced to be quiet, my mums out of town."

"Again?"

"Yeah. Oh you can see my room this time." I nervously laughed while I walked up the stairs. "Here, we are!" He threw his arms in the air and I smiled at his silliness. The first thing I noticed was his huge bookshelf that was overflowing with tons of thick books. 

"You really do like to read huh?" My eyes squinted at the books spine, that read the titles.

"Indeed. Would you like something to eat? I'm about to make a 'cuppa." He trotted down the stairs while I followed.

"A warm tea would be nice."

"Coming right up." He grabbed the cups out the cupboard. "So what brings you here?" He rubs his beautiful soft face- not that he's beautiful. Well his but, I'm not interested or anything...

"My dad was just being an ass, I didn't wanna be there 'ya know?" He nodded.

"I'm glad you called. Always call me for anything, okay?"

"Thanks Bri." He smiled up at me, with teeth and all. His hair was so- so fluffy.

"Hey Bri?"

"Yes?"

"Can I call you 'Poodle Boy?"

"No." I pouted.

"But Brimi-"

"You're not calling me that either." I pouted again.

Sorry this chapter is so fucking boring aljcnfnejck. Excuse me while I pluff my fluff. Thanks darlings.