A/N: I am really going HAM on this series, guys. I love it so much tbh. the amount of traffic I’ve accumulated the last few days on my blog has me SHOOK. I’m so glad I’m bringing entertainment to well-deserved people! Love y’all!
Summary: It’s Friday. You just need to survive one whole work day before the night is all yours and Roger’s.
(Again, BoRhap or real Roger, whatever tickles your peaches)
WARNINGS: Swearing, Vaguely Mature Subject Matter
I’d rate this big boy a T.
It was definitely Friday.
And it was definitely seven o'clock.
A.M.
You watched as the red numbers on your alarm clock changed every infinity.
Twelve hours until dinner.
Two hours until work.
You felt as if you’d been lying awake in your bed for years. You barely had any sleep the night before, taking to the alarm clock as a distraction from your thoughts.
7:02, and your mind still raced with your heart.
It had only been two days since the situation regarding you, a lift, and a certain blond beauty occurred. Despite this, those days dragged on almost as if each day were a lifetime.
You’d had those days off, and you only did what you were doing now; staring at that damned alarm clock.
You didn’t know if you were excited or scared of this dinner with Roger. On one hand, you didn’t know how well the night would go considering your relationship with him had been transparent for a whole two years…
But you couldn’t help but think back to his confession in the lift. One you’d forgotten about until just this morning.
“My Doll, I have been in love with you since the moment I set eyes on you, and I never stopped.”
You shut your eyes and sighed. You remembered his voice being so gentle, and how the pause after his confession hung in the air in a very pleasant way.
You remembered how his bright blue eyes carved effortlessly into your heart and soul, and how his soft listings of the little domestic and romantic things he wanted to do with you had your chest nearly bursting with every butterfly that could have coexisted in your being at once.
You opened your eyes and frowned.
7:04.
You wished you’d responded to what Roger had said.
You could think of a million and one things to tell him if you were back in that situation.
In the lift.
7:05.
And a million and two things to tell him.
"Higher.“
"Fred, if this is gonna be like Bohemian Rhapsody, I may just have to leave–"
"Roger, Darling, you’re doing great here. Your falsetto is fantastic, but it just doesn’t seem to want to match tones.”
Roger sighed, pressing the palm of his right hand against his headphones. With his other hand, he spun his finger in a counter clockwise motion.
"Replay,“ he requested with a yawn. Roger really needed his morning coffee.
Freddie replayed the audio, and Roger waited for his falsetto.
In that moment, you ran through the doors of the console room the band was in, five cups of coffee and tea hot and ready for your coworkers and yourself.
"Sorry, the lineup was long, and they kept screwing up Roger’s order. As always.”
John leaned back in his swivel chair so he could see you past Freddie.
"You… seriously made sure they got his order right? That’s not… usual for you.“
You shrugged, setting the trays of coffee on the side table before removing your raincoat. "Figured I’d be nice today.”
You heard the famous Roger Taylor Falsetto from the studio.
"Still trying to perfect that part?“ You asked, taking Brian’s chair next to Freddie since he moved to retrieve his tea.
"Yeah. He insisted this song needed this one falsetto, but it’s not looking too good.”
You nodded at Brian’s response, and glanced down at the empty case the song’s tape was in. It was labelled “Somebody To Love.”
You pursed your lips, and looked up at Roger through the last window, only to see him looking back at you. You smiled the tiniest bit, and he returned it…
That is… until his attention was brought back to Freddie, who was scolding him for completely missing his time to hit his notes.
A break for Roger was called, and he left the studio. He knelt down next to your seat to talk to you, but he could see John glaring at him in harsh suspicion from over your shoulder.
Neither he, Freddie, nor Brian were aware of what happened the few nights before.
You found the silence the smallest bit awkward, so after clearing your throat, you smiled a little. “So I uh… I got you your coffee. For real this time. One and a half milk, one and a half sugar.”
"… Really?“ Roger got to his feet, and moved to the coffee table to grab his drink.
"Thought I should. You’re all working very hard. You deserve it.”
Roger took a sip of his coffee and hummed gently. “T'is a shame. I was just starting to enjoy the sweetness of two milk and two sugar.”
You just rolled your eyes in response, a smile at your lips. "You’re welcome, Blondie.”
From the other side of the room, Brian watched closely at the unusual encounter. Seeing a dinosaur in the middle of London in this time period would have been more believable to see than you and Roger…
"Are they flirting?“ John asked Brian in a hushed tone. He’d read his mind, but the lanky guitarist only answered with a shrug of his shoulders.
Freddie was more amused by yours and Roger’s engagement, mindfully leaning against the console board with his arms crossed over his chest, and a smirk on his lips.
Despite his desperate want to call you both out for your strange behaviour, he’d much prefer watching John and Brian go mad trying to figure the situation out.
"If I may,” John cleared his throat apprehensively, eyes narrowed.
“But Roger, you haven’t made one snide remark to y/n, and she’s already been here for a whole three minutes."
He paused. "Not that I’m wanting you both to fight.”
Roger just shrugged, and proceeded to hand you your order. This was the first time he didn’t try to purposely spill a hot drink on you in two years, and it was a very relieving feeling.
"Change of heart ‘suppose.“
After the boys’ coffee break, they found themselves back in the recording studio. You sat in the console room, and gave little suggestions to them every once in a while on how to improve the song.
Despite this, you knew that Somebody To Love was already a masterpiece.
"Can we start just before that falsetto, y/n?” Roger asked over the mic. You just nodded, and rewound the tape.
"Got no feel, I got no rhythm,“ you nodded your head along to Freddie’s vocals, and the already recorded instruments blasting through the speakers of both rooms.
You weren’t prepared to hear a wail of a falsetto coming from Roger. You snapped your head up to look at the band in the recording studio, Roger beaming at you in success.
You rose to your feet and cheered for the blond as the song continued on.
You knew for certain this take really counted.
The long repetition of the band members pleading the listeners to "find me somebody to love” eventually arrived in the song.
Whether this was purely a coincidence or not, Roger held eye contact with you the entire time he sang, a smile never able to leave his mouth every time he said that “L” word.
And you just found that fact utterly adorable and innocent.
It was true, then.
He really did forgive you.
And he really did love you.
"Lunch time!“ Brian announced with an excited clap of his hands. "Roger, it’s your turn to choose.”
Roger was sitting at the console board, staring at his reflection in the window separating the room you five were in, and the studio.
"I may have to skip out on lunch today, lads. I really need to practice some other songs for this album.“
While Freddie was obliged to leave, Brian and John found this really doubtful. You were staying behind to pack up the instruments the band weren’t going to use for the rest of the recording that day.
Why would someone insist on staying behind to be near an enemy? None of it was making sense.
Brian knew you. He’d known you since university. He just didn’t understand why you weren’t mouthing Roger off, or making an excuse to leave him behind.
Despite this, Freddie found himself out, and Brian and John followed.
You were lying on the couch behind Roger, reading a book. You weren’t really paying attention to it, though.
Especially not when you heard Roger’s swivel chair squeak. "Hey, Doll,” Roger greeted as he sat on the armrest of the couch by your feet.
You glanced up over the pages of your book, bending your legs so Roger could slip into the now vacant seat. You stretched your legs back out, and Roger rested his hand on one of your kneecaps.
"Hi, Loverboy,“ you acknowledged back, dipping your head back behind the book.
"Whatcha readin’?”
You shook your head. “Nothin’ interesting.”
You closed the book and dropped it on the floor, resting your arms over your stomach. “Whatcha practicin’?” You nodded your head towards the recording studio.
Roger gave you the same answer you did.
"Nothin’ interesting.“
Your lips twitched into a smile, and you closed your eyes.
Roger just watched you, his thumb rubbing circles over your kneecap in a slow, repetitive pattern.
"It’s so weird… being like this with you again.”
"Tell me about it, Doll.“
The only thing that really could be heard was the analog clock on the wall. You opened your eyes and examined the time.
1:34.
Five hours and twenty six minutes until dinner.
Three hours and twenty six minutes until the end of the work day.
"Why don’t I teach you some drumming?”
You moved your gaze from the second hand on the clock to Roger, whose eyes were wide and hopeful.
"What is this, 1974?“
"It just may be. For this lunch. If you want.”
You turned to face the live room’s tempting door handle.
"… only for a few minutes. I still need to pack up for everyone else.“
Roger beamed, and you lifted your legs to set him free. He immediately grabbed your hand, and pulled you into the studio, shutting the door behind you rather quickly.
"Okay okay,” Roger took a seat in his drumming stool, and turned to you, patting his thigh innocently with his hand.
"A special seat for a special lady.“
"In your lap? You call that special?”
"Well, not me, but some women might.“
You smiled, and shook your head. "Gross.”
Despite this, you seated yourself in Roger’s lap, and he spun the both of you around so you were behind the drums.
"Here,“ he gave you his drumsticks from his back pocket, and put them in your hands.
He went to cup his larger hands over yours, and you teasingly mumbled "gee, at least take me to dinner first.”
Roger shifted over so he could look at your face. “You mean to tell me I have to buy you dinner to hold your hand, but lap-sitting is completely fine?”
You shrugged, your uncontrollable grin resulting in a smile from Roger.
You both turned back to the drums, and Roger started naming the different types of drums on the kit.
Of course, you knew everything he told you. He’d told you before. You’d dealt with his drums and put them away for the longest time. Before…
"–And here’s the snare. T’s my favourite because its name is fun to say.“
You just let Roger talk. You missed hearing his voice speak with such passion.
You missed doing things like this with him.
You missed him.
How blind were you in the past not to catch on to how into you Roger was?
How into you he is now.
You opened your mouth to speak, but Roger was still going on about the drum kit.
You didn’t cut him off.
But you let him help you play.
He helped you play both simple and complicated songs, his arms guiding yours to the correct drums and cymbals at the right time.
At one point, Roger let go of your arms, and you kept to the notes he’d taught you moments before.
"You’re doin’ well, Doll.” He watched the drumsticks tap the cymbals over your shoulder, his hands innocently resting at your waist.
You repeated the same notes for a minute or so before you felt Roger’s arms slide around your body into a gentle embrace.
"… Rog?“
"I’m sorry, y/n. About the last few years. How I’ve treated you…”
He rested his head on your shoulder, and you reached up to comb his hair with your fingers.
"Hey, hey now. It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay.“
Although Roger found some relief in your words, he tightened his arms around you. You just sighed, and leaned back, turning your head to kiss his temple.
"It was justified, and all is forgiven, Hun. Let’s put these last two years behind us. Start over, yeah?”
Roger turned his head to face you, and after looking at you for a moment or so, he nodded his head.
"Thank you, Doll.“ One of his arms unravelled from around your waist, and he let his own fingers glide through your hair.
You shut your eyes, and basked in the short amount of time Roger gave you this attention.
When you opened your eyes, Roger’s gaze was obviously fixated on your lips. You lifted your head up a little, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours, gently, and kindly smiling.
"Y'know… you have nice lips.”
Your cheeks glowed, and you shyly looked away. Roger laughed– a short exhale out his nostrils.
"Don’t make me kiss you, y/n.“ You turned back to him, and the both of you’d found yourselves moving ever so slightly closer to each other.
Before he got too close, you pressed the tips of your fingers to his mouth, and smiled innocently.
"Whatever you say, Blondie.”
Roger’s mouth fell open in shock after you pulled your hand away.
"I wasn’t being serious!“
"No, Meddows. I’m doing what you asked,” you’d never looked so smug in your life, or sounded so proud.
You believe this was the first time you’d put the Roger Taylor in his place.
You glanced up at the clock, and proceeded to do a double take. “Shit!”
You jumped out of Roger’s lap, and started running around the studio, gathering cords, and wrapping them up frantically.
"What?!“
"We spent that whole hour drumming and talking! The boys will be back any moment!”
Roger wordlessly got to his feet and helped you clean up. You were thankful for that. You just never verbally expressed it.
When Freddie, John, and Brian all returned from lunch, not only was the studio empty of any unnecessary instruments, but your relationship with Roger, if you could even believe it, had been strengthened even further after the confession on the lift.
As much as it bummed you out, you and Roger didn’t kiss in the studio.
Were you close when Roger was apologizing?
Absolutely.
It was something that plagued your mind for the rest of the day.
The clock in the console room struck five, and you took a deep breath.
Two hours until dinner.
Brian entered the console room from the studio, his Red Special in hand. He was spending the last few hours practicing his solos for other songs on the album they were working on, and John was also in there with him at some point.
"That was a great practice, everyone!“ Freddie announced, a painfully wide grin on his face.
"Why don’t we all go for drinks tonight? My treat.”
You looked over at Roger with mild worry, shrugging on your raincoat slowly.
"I can’t tonight, Fred,“ Roger said apologetically. "I’ve plans I can’t cancel.” Freddie nodded in understanding.
"What about you, y/n?“ John asked.
"I have a date, actually.” At that, the room went quiet.
This was new.
Brian raised an eyebrow. “You… you’ve met someone?”
You swallowed. You didn’t think this was going to be such a big deal. You’ve dated around after your breakup with Steven. Why is it different now?
"Old friend,“ you explained. "Our friendship’s been kinda vacant. We wanted to reconnect. See what’d happen, you know?”
You swear on your life that you saw a hint of jealousy in Roger’s eyes, but it soon faded away when he realized the mistake he made.
Fucking dumbass, I was talking about you!
You shook your head a little in mild frustration, but smiled once more.
"Best be going, actually. Date’s at seven. Have a good night everyone!“
You heard a collective "good bye"s from Fred, Brian, and John, but an isolated "have fun tonight, y/n,” from Roger.
You shut the door to the studio, and made your way to the lift. As soon as the doors of the lift closed, you audibly groaned.
"Fucking moron.“
This little shit really just got jealous over himself.
Maybe all those months of faking hatred towards one another was really getting to him.
The lift, since it was broken, was very slow going down the elevator shaft. It gave you time to think.
After this date, you hoped to come clean with Freddie, Brian, and John about the state of your relationship with Roger.
Messages wouldn’t be underlying, nor would your unusual behaviour towards the drummer.
This situation was very complicated the more you thought about it, but you really hoped a fun night out with Roger would be enough to solve everything.
And it would.
A/A/N: This was very long so I apologize for the wait. I also wanna thank y’all for being patient. As always, comments, and feedback are always welcome!
@radiob-l-a-hblah @bohemiansweede @demo-wise @culturefiendtrashqueen @luvborhap
Roger Taylor’s message to Queen’s Japanese fans, with an interruption by Freddie Mercury, and John Deacon in the background, 1975.
Me: Give me all the angst.
*Angst happens*
Me:
Tumblr Text Posts
Joe Mazzello and how he was casted for the role of John Deacon. (x)
My therapist- John Lennon saying and I oop- as George squeezes passed him in the 60s isn't real, it cant hurt you
John Lennon saying and i oop- as George squeezes passed him in the 60s-
A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!
Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!
I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!
P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!
Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.
WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.
Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3
Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!
Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.
It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:
The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...
You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.
There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.
As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!
You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.
And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.
You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.
"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"
That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?
You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.
The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.
As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.
Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.
And now his target was spotted.
He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"
You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.
"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.
"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"
His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.
"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."
"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.
The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.
"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."
Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.
"And the Fair, John? Really?"
The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"
You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.
"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.
You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.
"You left me lost in that fun house--"
"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"
"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"
You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.
"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"
"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.
"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.
"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."
You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...
Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.
"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."
You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.
"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."
At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.
"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.
You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.
As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"
"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."
John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.
The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.
"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,
"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"
You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.
"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.
"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.
"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.
The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.
Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.
John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.
The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.
After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.
"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.
"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.
That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.
Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.
As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.
"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.
"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.
"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."
"And...?"
"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."
The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.
"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.
"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.
You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.
As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.
One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"
"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."
The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."
"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.
"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.
"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.
"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"
"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.
"That's.. not something I want to picture."
"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."
The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.
The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.
After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.
"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"
"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.
You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.
And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.
"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."
You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.
There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.
"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"
"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."
"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"
You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.
That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.
"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."
The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.
As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.
"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"
Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.
But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.
Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.
You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.
After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.
Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.
You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.
This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.
Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.
Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.
You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.
Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.
He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.
You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.
You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.
His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.
Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.
But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.
Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.
You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.
And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.
The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.
He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.
Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.
You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.
Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.
"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.
"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.
"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.
You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.
The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.
This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.
But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?
It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.
After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.
You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.
"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.
You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.
"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.
You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.
The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.
John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.
You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.
You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.
You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.
And now he was holding your hand.
That's new.
"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.
You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.
"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."
"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.
Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.
You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.
Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?
At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.
"John, we need to talk about what happened."
"I know."
You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.
There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...
"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.
"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."
You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.
And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.
"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.
"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."
There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.
"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."
John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.
"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."
John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.
"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.
"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."
You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.
"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.
"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"
You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.
"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.
Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.
"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."
Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.
At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.
The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.
When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.
"Wow," you sighed.
"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.
That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.
"What's the matter, Love?"
"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.
"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.
"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."
"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.
"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."
John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.
"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.
"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."
"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."
John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.
"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."
John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."
That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.
"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"
John looked at you expectantly.
"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."
Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.
You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.
But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.
You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.
You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.
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A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.
@culturefiendtrashqueen
@cowgorls
(Pls message if you want to be added/removed from my permanent/oneshot/chapter fic tag lists!)
So I very rarely draw anything digitally because I find it very difficult but I found this the easiest way to do these. So as soon as I read this prompt, I immediately thought of the benefits of using medicinal marijuana. I was under the influence when sketching these. The first one-- the less detailed one-- was my original. The other one was one I spent more time on (clearly), and I'd completely forgotten about my first sketch.
The second one looks more like a fairy, but I think I get my point across.
Design an angel based on any sort of medicine or medical treatment you are familiar with. If you are not familiar with any medicine or medical treatment, draw a bandage angel.
Phelps; “You know Jack Kelso?”
Biggs; “He’s an insurance investigator over at California Fire and Life. Our paths cross from time to time. For some reason, seeing you makes me think of him.”
Freddie: There’s only one thing worse than dying.
Freddie: *rips paper away to reveal ‘John’ above dying*
John, nodding: Myself.
Freddie: nO
Guess who’s lacking inspiration for one series
And guess who’s gonna start writing an entirely different series starting tonight
You can find my masterlist here
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