The Fantastic Drowse (Maylor)

Into The Woods We Go (Part 1/4)

"That's it, I'm running away."

It was the last day of school and to say he was done with everything was an understatement. He slammed his tray down on the table as bits of macaroni flew everywhere. No wonder the janitors hated him.

"Christ's sake, Rog!" Brian nearly choked his sandwich, glaring at the blond.

"Don't be a fucking idiot." Freddie snorted, looking up from his notebook which he'd been figuring out lyrics in.

"How'd that work out for you the first time?" John looked up from his lunch at the flustered blond with an unimpressed look on his face, he chose to ignore the jab from Brian.

"No, you don't understand!" Roger grumbled, crossing his arms. "Trevor is invading my life like some sort of fucking Martian! The other day, I came home and he and my mum were cuddling on the couch! My couch!!"

"How dare he cuddle his girlfriend." Brian snorted, taking another bite of his sandwich before turning to his friends. "He's overreacting."

"I am not!" Roger huffed, shoving his tray away. "And don't call her that!"

"Darling, I think you have attachment issues." Freddie leaned across the table and patted his shoulder, only to be shoved away with a glare.

"I'll show you attachment issues when I attach my foot to your ass." Roger muttered.

"Look, Rog, it's not that bad. Your mum's happy and Trevor's a good guy. Shouldn't you be supportive of her?" Brian set his sandwich down and gave the blond a pointed look.

"I'm packing my bags and running away." Roger stood up with his face pulled into a grumpy pout.

"Sit your ass down, Taylor before I call your mum." Freddie rolled his eyes, watching the younger boy plop back into his seat with a huff. "If you run away again I'll have to kick your ass."

"Don't call my mum..." Roger sighed, letting his head fall to the table with a thud.

"So...why's he upset?" John finally asked, watching the blonds head hit the table.

"Trevor wants to take him camping." Brian said, causing Freddie to let out a sharp gasp.

"I understand." Freddie sighed, patting the blonds back. "I'll run away with you. I'd rather die than sleep in a bloody tent."

"Fred, not helping! No one is running away!" Brian rolled his eyes. "Rog, you're being dramatic. I have to go too and I'm not making a big deal of it."

"Oh god, this is the worst thing." Roger groaned, popping his head back up. "What if they get married? What if she gets pregnant?!"

"Isn't your mum too old to have more kids?" John asked, setting his sandwich down as Roger glared at him.

"Shut up! She's not old! Your mum is old!" Roger pointed at him, his face growing more annoyed as the younger boy shrug.

"Yeah, my mum is forty-eight. She's pretty old." John said, unbothered. "How old's your mum, Rog?"

"She's thirty-six." Roger muttered. "Shut up, she had me at twenty and she was married right after she gave birth!"