Some Day One Day (Maylor AU)

Chapter 51

Stewart's nap on the plane gave him an energy that Roger couldn't compete with upon their late-night arrival in London, the taller of the two dragging the shorter through the bustling airport in search of their respective friends. With their hands intertwined—like lovers looking for a place of privacy—and their bags rolling noisily behind them, the pair expertly wove their way through the sea of unfamiliar faces. In fact, they were so caught up in their own endeavor that they nearly passed by the one familiar face standing out in the crowd.

"Roger!" Freddie squealed, his distinct voice sounding over the buzz of conversations and loudspeaker announcements. He and Stewart stopped dead in their tracks, turning their heads this way and that until the blonde spotted the dark-haired man, standing atop one of the many benches teeming with fussy families and solo flyers waiting for their flight to be announced. Freddie jumped down from his post and pushed his way to Roger, practically attacking the blonde as he lunged forward and embraced him like he hadn't seen him in ages.

Roger chuckled at his friend's eagerness but was quick to return the gesture, glad to see him again as well. Stewart—feeling somewhat forgotten—cleared his throat, breaking up the happy reunion and reminding the blonde that he and Freddie hadn't been properly introduced. "Sorry," he apologized, gesturing between the two strangers, "Stewart, this is Freddie, the one I told you I'd be staying with. And Freddie, this is Stewart, the guy I'm starting a band with."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Freddie," Stewart remarked, a friendly grin appearing on his face as he extended his hand out. "I've heard only good things about you."

"And I've heard you're a pretty good shag," the dark-haired man replied slyly, placing his hand in the taller blonde's palm and holding tight. "Are you available anytime soon? I'd love to see it for myself."

"Fred!" Roger chastised under his breath as Stewart quickly slipped his hand out of Freddie's deathlike grasp and held it protectively to his beating chest.

"What? I thought I'd ask!"

The blonde brought an embarrassed hand up to his forehead and hung his head in shame, an awkward silence falling over the three—disrupted by a fourth person joining the group. As Roger dropped his hand to the side and lifted his gaze up from the ground, his eyes widened at the uncanny resemblance the stranger had to him. With short blonde hair and blue eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, he could've been mistaken for his doppelganger.

To ease his growing suspicions, though, Stewart exclaimed, "Sting, hey!"

"Ready to go?" he asked flatly, ripping the eyewear off his face and surveying the two men staring at him like a deer in headlights. "Who are these two?" he wondered aloud, slipping his sunglasses into the breast pocket of his jacket.

"Well, this is the guitarist I found," Stewart explained, pointing at Roger who raised an anxious hand that ended up running through his hair and landing on the back of his neck. "And that's his friend who wants to sleep with me."

"Only if you want to, darling," Freddie purred, folding his arms over his chest and flashing the drummer a dazzling smile.

"How polite," Sting muttered indifferently, grabbing Stewart by the arm. "Come on, let's go. I've got a baby in the car."

"O-Okay, buddy," the taller of the two blondes stammered as the tables turned and he became the one getting dragged through the airport. Before he got too far, Stewart looked back at Roger and called out, "Meet me at the address I wrote down for you tomorrow at 8! We'll jam, all three of us!"

Roger gave him a thumbs-up before losing him and Sting in the crowd and turning his attention to Freddie. He nodded his head in the direction the other two disappeared and said, "We should go too. I'm sure Mary's just dying to see me again."

"Oh, don't worry about her," his friend assured him, linking their arms and leading them to the exit. "She's still high on the thrill of playing with a baby today."

"Of course, she is," Roger quipped, the corner of his lip pricking upward into a smirk.

"Hey, at least it makes her tolerable," Freddie responded, nudging him in the arm and returning the grin. The blonde would never admit it, but he missed Mary and her quirks. He missed Freddie too, and although he had found similar characters to fill in the holes carved out by his move to America, they couldn't even begin to compare to what he'd left behind in London—or rather, who he'd left behind in London.