Stars in Your Eyes (Queen/Roger Taylor)

8. Roger

"Friends?" I ask, extending my hand to Skylar. She looks down in confusion, and the most adorable giggle escapes her lips before she shakes it. Fuck, I'm smitten with her. I've never once chased after a girl like this, especially not after being rejected multiple times.

I'll put it this way, friends isn't a word I hear very often from a member of the opposite sex.

She looks up at me through those impossibly long lashes and motions me forward with her finger. Has she changed her mind? Has my luck finally changed? I lean forward eagerly, and, slowly, she climbs across the sofa and straddles my legs, looking down at me.

"Roger?"

Skylar puts a hand at the nape of my neck and tugs my hair lightly, forcing me to look up into her hazel eyes.

"Roger."

I lean up towards her, quickly closing the distance as I knot my hand in her dark hair and our lips finally-- fucking finally--crash together. We bypass the shy, exploratory kisses and go straight for the hot-and-heavy ones, my tongue slipping past her lips.

"Roger!"

Suddenly, the sounds of us breathing heavily are replaced by birds chirping aggressively. The image in my head starts to fade as I once again hear my name.

"Roger... time to wake up."

Fuck. Fuck. As I lay there, it all comes back to me. Skylar and I hadn't snogged, not even close. Instead, she had passed out on the sofa, and, shortly thereafter, I'd done the same. We must have slept slumped on each other, which would explain the horrendous ache throughout my body.

My eyelids flutter open to see Skylar kneeling in front of the sofa, those same eyes from my dream looking at me in amusement. I slam my eyes shut, wondering if I pretend to be asleep if she'll just let me crash here for the next 12 hours.

I hear a soft chuckle. "I have to go to work. Time to get up, sleepyhead."

Groaning, I open my eyes fully. Skylar looks to be freshly showered and smartly dressed in a navy v-neck jumper and tight corduroy flares. I wonder what she looks like in her doctor's uniform, my mind wandering to that image, which isn't an unpleasant one. Not. At. All.

Skylar clears her throat, and I realize that I've started to fall back asleep. She hands a mug of tea hands over to me as I reluctantly sit up. Fucking hell, my back. Letting out a groan, I reach back and touch a particularly tender spot.

"Yeah, my back isn't in good shape either," she says with a chuckle. "I'm not sure that the human body is designed to sleep on sofas."

"Did you also play two gigs last night?" I ask cheekily, taking a welcome sip of tea. She's somehow guessed at just the way I like it, which is annoyingly cute.

"What time is it?"

"Early," she says apologetically. "I hated to wake you, especially since you look much more innocent when you're sleeping, but I have to leave for work."

I have a thought, and my eyes brighten.

"What?" she asks suspiciously.

"Sky, this is our very first time sleeping together!"

"Good Lord," she guffaws, hiding her mouth behind her hand. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"So I've been told." I stretch one arm over my head, feeling a horrible burning sensation in my shoulders. My face must convey precisely how much pain I'm in because Skylar gives me a sympathetic smile and peeks over to the fireplace to look at the clock.