Love Is Real (Maylor)

The Perfect Night

Early morning sunlight poured through the thin opening between the hotel curtains, shining directly into Rogers eyes. Scrunching his nose, he slowly opened his eyes before gazing up at the sleeping guitarist. Roger felt a bit of shock when he noticed that they were both naked, but quickly relaxed when he remembered last nights events. It was the first time they've had sex since their break.

His mind, however; was plagued with the nightmare he'd just woken up from. The same nightmare he'd been having since they ended their break a few nights ago.

It always went something like Brian realizing that Chrissie was the better option. Brian kissing her. Brian being with her. Brian leaving him.

This time was particularly traumatic for the blond. This time, Brian moved on completely. He had kids and a wife. He was happy. And he wasn't Roger's.

Letting out a shaky sigh, he lifted his head from Brian's chest to look at his face. Roger felt a few tears slip down his cheeks.

It was hard to forgive him, but he did. He knew Brian would never purposely do what he did. He knew it wasn't intentional. But it still hurt him. It still came in flashes and haunted his dreams.

Having to go through what he went through before with Tim tore him apart, this time being even worse because Brian said he loved him. Brian promised so much and then turned around, got drunk, and kissed his ex. His ex who he had secret conversations with over the phone.

Roger felt his chest getting tight as the thoughts ran through his head. Would Brian leave him? Just like in his dreams?

Roger felt tears run down his face as his breathing became uneven. He could hardly control the sob that escaped his lips.

Brian felt small droplets fall on his chest, making him stir in his sleep. Soon, he heard small gasps and felt a shaking body next to him. He shot up quickly, worry running through his veins.

"Rog? What's wrong, love?" Brian asked, reaching out to rub his back.

Roger dropped his head in his hands and sobbed. It had been a month since it happened, but the wound was fresh. He felt fine yesterday, he felt happy. Why couldn't he just get over it. Why couldn't he stop dreaming those retched dreams?

"I'm sorry..." he whispered, his voice choked up. "I'm sorry, Bri, I'm sorry..."

"Oh, Rog..." Brian's own voice was choked up, he wrapped his arms around the crying man. "You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?" He said softly, stroking his hair. "Just tell me what's wrong."

Roger buried his face in his chest, his breathing finally calming down. "You don't love me... Not really..."

"Roger. Look at me." Brian said firmly.

Roger brought his red-rimmed eyes up to meet Brian, they widened when he saw that Brian was now crying.

"After Chrissie, I thought I'd never find someone. After her, I figured it was just over and I gave up. No one could change my mind, not my friends, not my family, Hell, not even Freddie. But then you came along and I was gone, completely gone for you. Every doubt I had vanished the second I saw your face, heard your voice. The exact moment you smiled at me, I knew you were the only one that could make me love again. I don't care how cheesy this sounds." Brian said, wiping his face.

"What I did... it was inexcusable. It doesn't matter if I was drunk, I should've pushed her away. I should've told her that I had you when she asked. I should've said no when asked if I love her, because that's the truth. I should've done so many things differently. I shouldn't have ever hurt you. And I hate myself for putting you through this again." He clenched his jaw, swallowing back his own tears. "I fucking hate myself."