And You Are By My Side
Title: And You Are By My Side
Rating: PG. Kissing. :]
Pairing: Modern Day Maylor, I Actually Wrote Something Other Than Froggie!
Circa: Now. :]
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. :[ *sniffs*
There was a mere hour left before they were scheduled to go on. Where was he? Brian thought to himself as he desperately hunted backstage for his friend. He silently prayed that wherever he was, he was alright. He’d been acting so differently recently. His usual carefree and loving friend had become so distant, barely responding at rehearsals, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts most of the time. Suddenly, Brian stopped at the last dressing room in the corridor.
“Please…” He said to himself under his breath as he slowly pushed open the door before peeking inside.
“Rog?” He whispered, shocked as he realised his friend was not only in there, but was bent over a photograph clutched in his hand, seemingly overcome by grief. As Roger looked up at him, he was barely recognizable. The big blue eyes that Brian had fell in love with so many, many years ago that were so often consumed by laughter and happiness were filled with vulnerable tears, a few beginning to streak down his pale cheeks and a photograph clutched in his calloused hand.
“Bri.” He replied sniffing back a few already suppressed tears.
“Rog, what’s going on? We’re due to go on in about an hour, Paul’s having kittens,” He half joked to his friend, sitting down beside him and wrapping an arm around him.
“I don’t know how much longer I can go on doing this, Bri.” He sighed heavily, leaning into his friend for both physical and emotional support.
“Doing what?” Brian pressed, feeling a little unsettled now. If this was the beginning of some tremendous emotional breakdown for his friend, he wasn’t sure how he could cope with it himself. He’d been to Hell and back but doing it again or watching Roger go through the same thing? He didn’t know if he could manage.
“This. Us. Everything. Pretending to everyone, to you, to them, to Paul, even to myself.” He stated, bluntly, his voice quivering slightly.
“Look at this. Look at us.” He began, nodding at the picture, taken somewhat in the early to mid 70s.
“We were all young and vibrant and, and look at Freddie. We had Freddie with us, he was always there to support us, to drive us forward when we felt we couldn’t go on… Nothing could have possibly went wrong then, we had him. And now. Now we’re all old and crinkly and Freddie’s gone.” He concluded, tears flowing freely now and his last words merging with a sob of pure emotion and grief.
“Oh Roger. I know. I feel the same, deep down inside. But, there’s nothing much we can do now except move on. Freddie’s gone and we’re old. But we still have the music, everything that he, and we, worked for and created and all we can do now it move forward and perform it.” He sighed, feeling at a loss for useful or comforting things to say.
“I’m sorry, Bri... I know but… I miss him. I miss what we used to be. I miss how it used to be. I wish we could go back, just this once.” He concluded, getting up slowly, his best friends arm still around him his shaking shoulders.
“I know, Rog. I know.” He replied, looking in those deep blue eyes, searching for some trace of the Roger he knew. Some trace of happiness. Of anything.
Before he could even begin to consider what to do next, the guitarist suddenly found lips on his friends’, their tongues gently dancing off one and other and the an indescribable feeling of electricity shooting into their bodies. Suddenly they felt as if they were young again, simultaneously remembering so many thoughts, emotions and feelings it was unreal. So many hot, steamy nights in hotel rooms, so many gentle embraces in rare moments of peace, the sound of Freddie’s laughter and John’s bass resonating in recording studios, the sight of their flamboyant lead flitting around onstage, pirouetting and strutting like a megastar, even when they were little more than penniless students. Suddenly it felt as if everything would be alright now they were wrapped up in each other’s arms. No matter what happened, they had each other and it was as if an unspoken promise had been renewed between them.
Before their embrace became a bit too passionate, they managed to pull away, each blushing like love-struck teenagers, before realising and sharing a moment of complete happiness as they laughed together, their hands joining.
“I missed you.” Brian said, softly, smiling at his friend.
“I missed you too, babe.” Roger replied, feeling 20 again as they walked out of the dressing room in search of their singer.
Rating: PG. Kissing. :]
Pairing: Modern Day Maylor, I Actually Wrote Something Other Than Froggie!
Circa: Now. :]
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. :[ *sniffs*
There was a mere hour left before they were scheduled to go on. Where was he? Brian thought to himself as he desperately hunted backstage for his friend. He silently prayed that wherever he was, he was alright. He’d been acting so differently recently. His usual carefree and loving friend had become so distant, barely responding at rehearsals, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts most of the time. Suddenly, Brian stopped at the last dressing room in the corridor.
“Please…” He said to himself under his breath as he slowly pushed open the door before peeking inside.
“Rog?” He whispered, shocked as he realised his friend was not only in there, but was bent over a photograph clutched in his hand, seemingly overcome by grief. As Roger looked up at him, he was barely recognizable. The big blue eyes that Brian had fell in love with so many, many years ago that were so often consumed by laughter and happiness were filled with vulnerable tears, a few beginning to streak down his pale cheeks and a photograph clutched in his calloused hand.
“Bri.” He replied sniffing back a few already suppressed tears.
“Rog, what’s going on? We’re due to go on in about an hour, Paul’s having kittens,” He half joked to his friend, sitting down beside him and wrapping an arm around him.
“I don’t know how much longer I can go on doing this, Bri.” He sighed heavily, leaning into his friend for both physical and emotional support.
“Doing what?” Brian pressed, feeling a little unsettled now. If this was the beginning of some tremendous emotional breakdown for his friend, he wasn’t sure how he could cope with it himself. He’d been to Hell and back but doing it again or watching Roger go through the same thing? He didn’t know if he could manage.
“This. Us. Everything. Pretending to everyone, to you, to them, to Paul, even to myself.” He stated, bluntly, his voice quivering slightly.
“Look at this. Look at us.” He began, nodding at the picture, taken somewhat in the early to mid 70s.
“We were all young and vibrant and, and look at Freddie. We had Freddie with us, he was always there to support us, to drive us forward when we felt we couldn’t go on… Nothing could have possibly went wrong then, we had him. And now. Now we’re all old and crinkly and Freddie’s gone.” He concluded, tears flowing freely now and his last words merging with a sob of pure emotion and grief.
“Oh Roger. I know. I feel the same, deep down inside. But, there’s nothing much we can do now except move on. Freddie’s gone and we’re old. But we still have the music, everything that he, and we, worked for and created and all we can do now it move forward and perform it.” He sighed, feeling at a loss for useful or comforting things to say.
“I’m sorry, Bri... I know but… I miss him. I miss what we used to be. I miss how it used to be. I wish we could go back, just this once.” He concluded, getting up slowly, his best friends arm still around him his shaking shoulders.
“I know, Rog. I know.” He replied, looking in those deep blue eyes, searching for some trace of the Roger he knew. Some trace of happiness. Of anything.
Before he could even begin to consider what to do next, the guitarist suddenly found lips on his friends’, their tongues gently dancing off one and other and the an indescribable feeling of electricity shooting into their bodies. Suddenly they felt as if they were young again, simultaneously remembering so many thoughts, emotions and feelings it was unreal. So many hot, steamy nights in hotel rooms, so many gentle embraces in rare moments of peace, the sound of Freddie’s laughter and John’s bass resonating in recording studios, the sight of their flamboyant lead flitting around onstage, pirouetting and strutting like a megastar, even when they were little more than penniless students. Suddenly it felt as if everything would be alright now they were wrapped up in each other’s arms. No matter what happened, they had each other and it was as if an unspoken promise had been renewed between them.
Before their embrace became a bit too passionate, they managed to pull away, each blushing like love-struck teenagers, before realising and sharing a moment of complete happiness as they laughed together, their hands joining.
“I missed you.” Brian said, softly, smiling at his friend.
“I missed you too, babe.” Roger replied, feeling 20 again as they walked out of the dressing room in search of their singer.