Nervous Ticks (Joger)

Chapter 8

Authors note: I wrote a letter to a stranger today and it took most of my afternoon. Has anyone else ever done that? I swear to made me feel great and I can't wait to send it off tomorrow.

John struggle desperately to get back on his feet, but Roger was heavy against him. The blonde was holding him down. Like he thought that John would up and disappear if he let go. John might have.

"Stop struggling John. Fuck, what the hell has you so fucking paranoid?" Roger shouted at him, fighting against the rejection of John's body. The skinny bassist bucked up against the blond to try and get him off, before giving up. Roger was actually pretty heavy and apparently was hiding some muscles somewhere, probably do to all that drumming.

He whimpered pathetically and turned to look Roger directly in the eyes, giving a sad look. "John, why are you running from me? We're friends and you're safe with me, but you still run." Roger gritted our desperately, like John was breaking his heart or something.

John stopped back in response finally going limp under the blonde. He was making Roger angry and probably freaking him out, this was not what he wanted. It was minutes before he quieted down and it was at least thankfully late enough that the sidewalk they were laid out on was not being used by others.

Roger back up and finally gave him an inch of room to breath in. John missed the body weight on top of him and had no way of communicating that to his blond friend. Roger was just sitting and looking at him now. Being patient like Roger wasn't always the exact opposite of that.

"Talk to me Deaky, you don't have to be afraid. I'm here for you, I promise." Roger's voice was calm and John was thankful for that. It made it a little bit easier to breathe. The panic was dull for now and easy to manage with just the two of them. The evening breeze also helped, even if it was a tad bit chilly.

"I don't like crowds or people very much. People always stare and it's hard to think or breathe with those eyes on me." John mumbled, trying to explain everything to Roger. It was hard to even pick where to start though, and he just ended up sniffling from the effort.

He had never told that to anyone before, not even his mother. She would've given him those upset eyes of hers and probably would have wondered if he had had a father figure would he have turned out better? That question must have always been on his mother's mind. John try not to think about it too hard.

Roger was kind in all the ways that John had never realize he would be. Helping him sit up and pulling in close, into a hug. Wiping away the tears that Stained John's face and letting the other just catch his breath. John tried not to cry anymore then he already was and ignored the pain of being tackled to the pavement. Instead, he took a moment to take in Roger's scent. It was sweet alcohol, sweet and something that was distinctly Roger. John tried not to lean in too far, worried he might get used to the sensation.

"It's all okay John, you don't have to worry anymore. I'll take care of you." Roger held him close for a few seconds, pressing John's face into his thin shirt. It was scary to John because they were still in public and one never really knew when some asshole would come bounding by. He still let it happen though, because being pressed to the blond's chest was one of the best moments he had ever experienced.

Rogers rubbing my hands to John's long brunette hair. He shuddered at the feeling, but leaned in nonetheless. A simple treat to himself was how John explained giving in to his own consciousness.

"You guys are gonna be and I'm just dragging you down. I don't wanna be the reason your dreams don't come true." He tried his best to explain. Roger was having none of his exclamation. In fact, he looked more annoyed as the moments ticked by. Kind of like he wanted desperately to hit something.

"Now John, you are amazing member of this band and there will be no making it without you. Just stick close to me and I'll make sure you're right. From now on just hold onto my arm when you can't speak and I'll do all the talking for you. Promise." With Rogers sweet voice, everything sounded so good. John even wanted to believe him.

He nodded nervously and then reached out to grab a hold of Roger, like requested. The blond blink at him and then gave him a smile. Like he thought that John was doing him some kind of privilege. Roger took John's hand with a tired grin and helped in get back to his feet. That was nice because Roger had been the one to knock him down in the first place.

"For tonight let's get the instruments packed into the van and then I'll drive you home. Much too far to walk." Roger suggested as they both stood up. Roger cheekily didn't let go of John's hand and instead laced their fingers together.

"What about Freddie and Brian?" John questioned quietly, feeling to tired to actually care. A ride home sounded absolutely wonderful.

"Let those fuckers walk." Roger replied with the wink. John giggled and let the blond lead him back to the bar. They avoided the entrance and went around back to grab they're already packed up instruments. The music was still playing in the background, thumping loudly into the night. He knew that he should protest being put above his band mates but liked feeling special to much. Besides, he hadn't seen the other two all night and they might have already left.

John felt a lot better with Roger by his side. Bumping hips to the beat and grinning because there was no one to see them. It was freeing to have this anxiety filled night to end this way. They worked as a team to get pack everything into the van, smiling at one another. Roger made offhanded jokes every few minutes to just keep John's attention.

At that moment it seemed to John that joining this band was a great idea. He knew that he was a tad bit of a dramatic person and could tell even through the panic of the evening that he really enjoyed himself. Roger was a great guy and that helped a lot. He couldn't wait to send more time with him.