With the wind howling outside, constant crashing of thunder, and the beating of the rain against the windows of the studio, the weather hadn't put the three of them in the best of moods. Freddie had been irritated the whole day since his only raincoat had gone missing and didn't bother searching around for it the night before, leaving his clothes slightly damp from the storm that raged on outside. Though John had seen Freddie in worse moods, he knew well enough not to bother him until he managed to calm down, which hadn't happened since the frustration was still evident on his face as he scribbled furiously on the tattered pieces of paper for what he figured would be a new song. Even Brian stayed away from him, quietly practicing his part for Play the Game, looking quite irritated himself. 

Yet despite his bandmates' obvious foul moods, John's had finally made a turn for the better. The conversation with Roger the night before had proven to him that Roger wasn't as furious with him any more and was actually willing to talk to him again. Yet the shadow of doubt hung over his hopeful thoughts. What if it had been just the alcohol that made him talk? Or the emotional trauma of Claire leaving him starting to affect him once again, despite it being over two months since she'd left him. John knew his mind was playing tricks on him, mainly due to his own emotional issues as well. His mood constantly switched between hopeless and in denial, numb and tired, to an angry, frustrated one where he constantly envisioned unlikely scenarios of him yanking Roger into his room, pinning him against the wall, and kissing him, just to release all the frustration that had existed between the two of them. But that scenario wouldn't work, seeing as it required force, and knowing Roger's sensitivity towards anything he did, he wouldn't take that action lightly. 

He sighed loudly, drawing the attention of their frontman, who looked up from his papers directly at him. The earlier annoyance had apparently vanished to a more neutral expression upon his face for the past few minutes, that is until he looked at him, and it changing into a more concerned look.

"John? You alright?" He asked, placing his notes on the piano and putting his full attention on him. John was still amazed at his change in appearance over the past few months. He'd lost most of his glam style once he cut his hair short, as did all of them back in '77, but Freddie still retained it with those damned unitards he wore on stage and his natural diva attitude. Now he held what he considered a more butch look. Short cropped hair and less usage of the more tawdry outfits from his earlier days, to a more subdued, simplistic look that consisted of jeans and t-shirts with the occasional leather jacket. Yet the most obvious change was that mustache he'd grown in quite quickly. Though all of them liked it, it certainly was a change seeing as none of them had any facial hair for more than a few days at the most, aside from the earlier days when Roger had to convince everyone he wasn't a woman by growing a beard and the rare occasions Brian had a beard for only a few days. In today's society that'd be considered a dead giveaway that you dabbled in the gay community, which wasn't wrong seeing as he was in a relationship with their own guitarist and had indeed been with a few guys before hand, but now it was more obvious to the public, and doing anything remotely gay was a social death sentence.

"Huh?" He asked, shaking his head to clear the thoughts about their frontman from his head, "Sorry, lost in my thoughts." 

Freddie smiled softly, "I asked if you were alright. Guessing you're fine though." He replied, grabbing his papers once again.

John nodded faintly, not really caring if Freddie saw his response or not. He was more concerned about Roger. Again he was late to the recording session, though not as late as the previous time. Worrisome thoughts poured into his mind. What if he crashed? He was recovering from a night drinking again and the onslaught of rain outside wouldn't help his impaired senses with driving. Or was he back at home, still fast asleep and unable to get there without someone? What if he'd broken down and was forced to walk to the studio outside in the cold weather? John bit down on his lip, trying not to alert his bandmates of his worries, especially with Freddie in the room. He was extremely nervous about how he'd acted around him ever since he'd froze up after Freddie had simply suggested that Roger might have a thing for guys. Though it was probably out of playfulness, John knew Freddie didn't think that anymore because of his unexpected reaction.

  God he could curse himself for being so stupid then. He didn't have to show any immediate reaction to Freddie's seemingly harmless comment, but he had to go and react as though he was actually asking him if he knew anything, acting like a complete fool in front of him and possibly alerting him of his current situation with Roger, or at least making him pay more attention to him. The only good thing about that was that Roger hadn't been there to witness it. Surely if he had been there it would have made Freddie even more suspicious or even make him ask Roger himself. 

"Fred should we just move on to another song? I've got mine we have to do and we still have John's to work on." Brian asked, sounding quite annoyed with Roger's tardiness to the session.

"Well unless you became an expert on the drums without telling us, we'll have to wait till he gets here." 

"There's still our vocals that can be recorded and we add Roger's in later." 

"J-Just give him five minutes." John whispered meekly, trying not to anger their guitarist any more. 

"It's been a half hour. I think our drummer's had enough time to get his lazy ass out here." 

"Like you've never had a rough time with anything." John said in a louder voice, giving a spiteful glare towards the older boy.

"It's been over two damn months. They dated for what? Two weeks? He needs to get his fucking head out of his ass and start doing something with his life." 

"It's not his fault! Like you've done shit to help him out!" John growled in a low voice, slamming his bass into the stand next to him, jumping up from his seat, balling his hands into fists as he glared at their guitarist, the top corner of his lip drawn up in a snarl, baring his clenched teeth. Brian's annoyed expression suddenly changed into a shocked one after hearing his short outburst, his gaze occasionally flashing down to where his hands were, defensively putting his hands up in front of his chest and backing away. It was rare he'd ever lose his composure, seeing as John himself was usually the one who'd stop the fighting that'd go on with the group since he preferred it when they all could get along. And even considering getting physical had never happened before. 

But how could he sit there while Brian started bashing Roger's actions while being fully aware of his situation? It wasn't his fault Claire left him, nor was it his fault that he hadn't recovered from it. So now he had the nerve to criticize him without ever trying to help him for the time being? Now he'd much prefer it if Roger would actually talk about his issues with any of them, but he'd been so uncharacteristically silent about those issues, not even presenting them a new song that could suggest what had happened between the two of them, and he hadn't seen him writing any lyrics down at home or at the studio either. His hands fell slack as he looked away from the slightly frightened glares from the other two bandmates, falling back down onto the seat behind him, resting his head on his hand and let out a long sigh. 

"Sorry..." He muttered, still not daring to look up to see Brian's expression, desperately hoping that he didn't look terrified as his rage faded away, guilt quickly taking its place. He flashed a quick glance over to Freddie, who looked more shocked than scared for the time being, but there was a light in his eyes that passed that fear onto him. It was as though he'd anticipated this action from him, yet he hadn't done anything to stop it. Freddie remained silent and instead returned to his writing. John looked over to Brian, who had now settled back down and was now sitting on the couch with his guitar, strumming mindless tunes and occasionally looking over at him. 

After a few more minutes of silence, the front door to the studio slammed shut, John quickly glancing up as Roger trudged in, shivering beneath his coat, but wasn't damp like Freddie had been when they had arrived earlier. He looked exhausted, yet with his eyes being covered by his sunglasses, he couldn't make a complete guess at how he was feeling, but that deathly pale skin tone and frail looking stature only helped prove his point. He stood in the doorway, keeping an expressionless face while staring blankly at the wall. 

"Earth to Taylor. You know you can come in, right?" Freddie jeered, Roger shaking his head to get out of his stupor. He removed his sunglasses and took a seat on one of the nearby chairs opposite John. 

"Yeah, sorry. Thinking about...stuff." He replied in a quiet voice, still distracted by whatever was going on in his head. John was relieved to see that he wasn't badly hungover, especially seeing how he'd acted the night before, but that was the only good thing of the situation. He just looked...defeated. Those dark circles under his eyes and the red tint in them along with the dark shadows of exhaustion, heartbreak, and despair that were cast over his blue gaze. He certainly didn't look up to playing his drums with his normal vigor, or even doing anything but go back to the flat and sleep. 

"Bri, could I talk to you? Alone." Freddie asked, shooting a serious look towards the guitarist and motioning to the other room. Brian didn't argue or comment on Freddie's request and followed him, gently placing his guitar on the stand beside him. 

Once the two boys left, an uncomfortable silence filled the room as they were left alone with each other once again. John continued to fight with his thoughts about last night. He wanted to bring up what had happened between them to Roger, hoping that he would be up to talking about what he had said last night. But he didn't want to make everything awkward for the rest of the day, especially since he was thinking that their talk the previous night was proof that he was starting to forgive him, or at least move on from the incident. Yet bringing it up would mean hitting upon the topic of his sexuality again, which John just knew he wouldn't dare talk about, at least not with the other two in the next room and definitely not with him, not yet at least.

But he couldn't just leave it alone and ignore what he had said to him. How miserable he actually was, how desperate he was for someone to be with him. He looked crushed last night and was still able to find a way around all his questions that would actually let him help him. Why should he even want my help. I put him in this damn place anyway...John still remembered his reaction last night after saying that he could trust him. But sitting there doing nothing wouldn't help Roger out any more than an attempt at saying something. 

"Roger...A-About what you said...last night." John started, immediately catching Roger's attention. That familiar spark of fear returned to his face, mixing with that look of misery that broke his heart every time he had to look at him. 

"God John." Roger replied with a long sigh, "Just leave it. Or are you that desperate that anything I s-say to you you'll take as a..." He cut himself off, turning away from John's gaze and stared at the ground, John faintly seeing his bottom lip tremble as he buried his face into his hands. He chewed the inside of his cheek, remaining silent as to not upset the older boy again over what had happened the previous night. He picked up his bass again, quickly surveying the instrument in case he might have damaged it in anyway after slamming it onto the stand earlier and trying to soothe the wave of shame that had come over him after making him tear up. 

You bloody idiot! What else did you expect? He berated to himself. Like he was going to be open to talking about that or even react positively to that! Just learn to keep your trap shut John, opening it just gets you into more trouble anyways. He looked over at Roger who was looking blankly down at the floor, trying to put on a fake neutral expression. Yet his eyes told another story, just as they always did. John couldn't detect one single emotion in them, but all of them were painful for him to look at. He looked confused, frustrated, still on the edge of tears, and most of all he looked absolutely terrified. Fighting back his desire to help him out as to avoid any more issues, he resumed quietly strumming his bass to the tune of Another One Bites the Dust, waiting for their fellow bandmates to return so that they could finish everything up and let this day end.

...

  Minutes passed as John and Roger sat in silence, Roger only moving away from his seat to set his drum kit up over on the platform. He could faintly hear the other two talking in the other room, but their voices were too quiet and muffled for him to make out what they were actually saying to one another. It didn't seem like a dangerous conversation, one where it'd turn into a fight since those would usually be louder. They were talking about something either personal or concerning something that they didn't want them to hear and knowing Freddie and Brian, they only spoke like this if they didn't want anyone else to hear whatever it was they were speaking about. 

Once it went silent in the other room, the other two returned moments after, not a hint of anger or guilt on their faces. John wasn't too sure what they were actually thinking, they both seemed to be masking it instead, trying to keep calm over whatever they had just discussed. However John couldn't help but notice a small mischievous light in their frontman's eyes as he returned to his writing. 

"To think I get shit for not showing up on time." Roger grumbled just loud enough for the others to hear, crossing his arms over his chest once they got to their usual places. 

Brian muttered something under his breath as he headed over to Roger, whispering in hushed tones so that they couldn't hear what they were saying. However, whatever Brian was telling him, he didn't seem too pleased to hear. His already tired expression turning into an extremely annoyed one once he got up and left the room with their guitarist. 

"Are we ever gonna get to practicing?" John asked, his patience already quite thin from everything that had happened in the past half hour. 

"Once everything is settled out between us, we'll practice the songs." He bit down on his bottom lip to hold back any possible continuation of that sentence and returned his focus to the crinkled pieces of paper. 

After waiting what felt like hours, but in actual time, it had only five minutes, John threw his bass down onto the couch next to him, feeling quite irritated that Brian decided that now was the best time to speak with their drummer. 

Freddie jumped at the sudden loud noise, "Look, just go see what they're talking about. They're just in the back room." 

"If it'll get them out here. Then we can just finish everything up." 

John left their frontman to his work, following the same direction that Roger and Brian had, knowing he was going the right way once he heard their voices from behind a door to the back room. Choose the smallest and farthest room to go talk in. Just my luck. He banged on the door, the talking behind it coming to a halt, a click coming from behind it after they unlocked it, and it swinging open, revealing a more than annoyed Roger and a somewhat apprehensive looking Brian, who was still avoiding eye contact with him. The room was quite dim compared to the rest of the studio, and much smaller than any other room. Aside from two small couches, a small table with a dark lamp on top, and another lamp illuminating the room, not much else occupied, or could occupy, the small space. They rarely used this aside from throwing any extra things back here or if one of them needed to get away from the others for a while. Mainly Brian used this since the rest of them would go outside for a cigarette if they needed to get away. 

"Are you two gonna finish up any time soon? I'd like to move on-Hey!" He cried out after something shoved him from behind into the back room. He stumbled forward, trying to find something to hold on to in order to avoid crashing down to the floor. He quickly stabled himself on the nearby side table, swinging around to see who had shoved him. 

"Sorry, but you two need this." Freddie said, John wondering how he'd gotten there so fast without making a noise. Brian quickly joined him, closed the door on them, and shoved something up against the door. Roger groaned loudly and ran over to the door and started to bang at it, shouting for them to let them out of here right now, throwing in a few more insults and swears into his sentences while continuing to yell at them. 

"If you'd shut up for a second, I can answer you." Freddie replied calmly, Roger obeying immediately by letting his hands fall to his sides, his fists still trembling. 

"Just listen to him. I'm quite sick of your attitude Roger over the past few weeks and would-"

"Bri darling, do me a favor and shut it. You're not gonna help in this situation. I'll explain it all out there, just let me say something."

John faintly heard Brian huff from behind the door and his footsteps grow quieter as he left the conversation. Roger had started fighting with the doorknob, jiggling it and desperately trying to get it to budge so he could open it, but even though his actions proved futile, he didn't stop trying. 

"You're not getting that door open Rog." Freddie sighed.

"J-Just let us out!" Roger pleaded, still trying to get the door to open, kicking at the bottom of the door to emphasize his desperation.

"No chance. You two have something to work out and while I'm quite sure what it is, I want you two to talk it out, try and solve something between you guys first. I can't stand seeing you two act like this around each other."

"F-Freddie please...o-open the door." Roger begged, his voice starting to shake as he slowed his banging on the door, soon stopping all together while still maintaining a strong hold on the doorknob in one last desperate attempt to keep the hope that Freddie would open the door for him and let him run out as fast as possible. 

"Roger there's something serious going on between you two and we're not opening this door till it is settled, or at least talked about! That's the end of it. I'll see you two later." Freddie stated, his disappearing footsteps following the sentence, growing quieter with each passing second till they had vanished. 

John stood there in complete shock, which helped him remain silent as the last time he said anything with Roger around it nearly brought him to tears. Freddie's actions just confirmed his fears, he did know something was going on and John could just tell from the seriousness in his voice, and the fact that he already knew about his sexuality, that he knew something about Roger. The only break he received from this was that Freddie hadn't specified what he thought was going on, but that didn't stop his stomach from twisting into knots after finding out that the last shred of hope he had that Freddie didn't know was ripped away from him.   

"Y-You." Roger snarled venomously, whirling around to face him. John backed up against the wall, placing his hands in front of his chest to prevent any attacks Roger would throw at him. The meager defense did little to protect him as Roger lunged at him, quickly grabbing his collar, pinning him against the wall behind him, and lifting him off the ground while trying to maintain any type of eye contact with him.

"I-I told you not to say a d-damn word. To anyone! Especially Freddie a-and Brian." 

His face had gone completely white, hands shaking violently, breathing reduced to a quick, shaky pant, and pupils fully dilated, leaving mere slivers of blue left. His face was a mixture of terror, hurt, and disbelief now that he was under the impression that he had spoken of what happened between the two of them. 

"I didn't say anything!" He said quickly, trying to get Roger's hands off of the collar of his coat. Roger reacted violently, growling out of frustration and tossing him aside. John tried to keep his balance, trying not to fall onto the table or the ground itself. Instead he fell into the couch, letting out a soft groan of pain as his neck hit the top of the couch and brought his hand up to soothe the sore spot on the back of his neck. A sharp, erratic sobbing suddenly came from the far corner, distracting John from the minor pain in his neck and looking over to see Roger hunched over, his hands threaded through his hair and covering as much of his face as his could, visibly shivering and whispering things beneath his breath between cries. 

John's protective feelings kicked in after seeing Roger's panic induced state, ignoring everything that had happened before and rushing over to him, unable to bear sitting there while he was in such a frightful position. He sank down to the floor next to him, now able to hear what he was saying to himself.

"Y-You're not...You're not...T-They can't k-know..." He repeated multiple times while rocking himself back and forth, desperately trying to calm himself down and avoid a frenzy of emotions, his efforts becoming less and less effective with every passing second as more and more fear filled his face. "Oh God they know!" He cried, lurching forward, wrapping his arms around his stomach as though he was going to be sick. John reached out to try and comfort him again, just to try and be helpful in soothing him. He laid his hand on his back, feeling him tense up at the sudden touch and threw his hand off of him, looking at him with a new shock upon his face, one that quickly turned into a shadow of guilt at the action.

"I'm d-done for...They...They're gonna." He paused, collapsing back into his hands and tears. John gave him an odd look, wondering whether he was directing the sentence towards him or that he was still continuing to argue with himself and his thoughts. 

"A-and you d-did this!" Roger snapped, leaping up from his closed position and towering above him, his hands curling back into fists again. Yet there was something different this time. It was all a show right now, trying to hide that sensitive, broken side again and cover it again with a fake rage. His words were poorly covered in a false angry tone, his fists were weakly held together, and he couldn't actually look him in the eye, or him at all, directing his attention to the wall behind him instead of him himself. But John's own patience cracked in that instant, ignoring those previous observations that he wasn't really mad at him and instead jumping into the argument. 

"Dammit Roger stop acting like this hasn't affected me! I have tried to comfort-" 

"Comfort?! You don't g-get what space means do you?" Roger interrupted loudly, trying to make himself look more threatening by clenching his teeth. "You were t-the...sober one..." He began, wanting to finish the sentence but instead cut himself off. 

"But you told me that you liked me, loved me in fact!" He argued, clearly able to recall Roger and his dialogue that night as though it had happened yesterday. Roger's somewhat drunken state, the excitement in his eyes after he told him about his crush, the reciprocated kiss a mere seconds after his own, and that confession that he did share similar feelings for him. 

"I-I was drunk." He stuttered out again, looking away from his glare and over at the wall. 

"Fuck that!" John barked, getting up from his seat on the floor and now able to stare him directly in the eye, all those angry, annoyed emotions coming to the surface after being buried for so long, continually growing with each passing day without any form of expression. "Being drunk changes your behavior, not your morals! You thought of it before, but would never act on those emotions while sober. You wouldn't have confessed to me, let alone consent." 

"I didn't consent, I-I was d-drunk!" John was growing irritated with his continued use of that excuse, even though when he did bring him back home, he didn't seem all to drunk, at least not enough to do anything hasty. 

"I don't think you were." John said, seeing a flicker of fear ignite his eyes at this, only further confirming his theory. Thinking back to Roger's actions that night, he had seemed emotional at the time he found him in that alleyway, but flat out drunk? It seemed unlikely. He was able to hold a conversation with ease, not stumbling over his words and able to walk quite well for someone who, if they were as drunk as Roger said he was, wouldn't have been able to do so. He also didn't have a bad hangover the next morning, able to get dressed quickly, talk a bit while doing so, and leave the room in less than five minutes. A shiver ran down his spine at the memory of the morning after, but he brushed it aside, focusing more on the discussion at hand. 

"You spoke perfectly with me the whole time home. You needed help staying up, but it was nearly three in the morning. So you were exhausted. Also, no hangover the next day. And an amazingly accurate memory of that night afterwards, being able to remember so much of what we said and did that if you were as hammered as you said you were, you wouldn't be able to remember where you went that night." 

Roger remained silent, that furious facade fading away with each word he spoke, fear and guilt replacing it instead. His face looked grim and shameful, yet John didn't feel any sympathy yet. He was done with being sympathetic for the time being, avoiding talking about that night and being submissive to Roger's demands to keep quiet when it was obvious that this was still affecting him deeply. 

"I saw it in your eyes that night. You looked relieved to have said that to me, told me you actually did care about me. But then you go and pull that the next morning and then forbid me from saying anything about it to anyone! Even you! I had to sit there day by day-" 

"Like you were so tortured afterwards! You weren't the one fucked by your...your friend." He said that last word as though it pained him to refer to him as a mere friend and not something more and the regret that instantly filled his face only confirmed his theory. John could sense that Roger was losing his hold on him now that he was gaining the upper hand in their conversation and he intended to use it to make some kind of progress in this rift between them instead of digging it deeper.

"You don't know what I had to go through. I had to deal with the fear of discrimination too. I had to hide behind the few girls that would go out with me, even going as far to give up my virginity to one just to convince everyone else I wasn't gay. Being forced to keep silent about it. Then that night came along. I'll admit, I jumped at the chance to be with you. But do you have any idea how long I've had to hide that part of me from everyone I know? My family, friends, and you three! No one could know-" 

"Why they hell did you jump at it if you were so nervous then?" Roger asked angrily, still attempting to throw him off and regain the high ground again.

John growled in frustration, "Because you said you loved me, and I was so close to saying something to the three of you already-" 

"Stop trying to make yourself seem like the victim here Deacon!" Roger spat, slamming his fist down onto the table, "I was the one hurt here, I..." He paused, letting out an annoyed groan, "I am not...gay!" He finished, forcing him to look away after completing that sentence, his mouth opening into a silent cry before he clamped it shut. 

"I was still hurt from what you did to me!" John shot back, raising the volume of his voice to try and seem more threatening as his patience wore down to a mere sliver.

"What on earth could I have done to you?!"   

  "I came out to you!" He howled, balling up his hands into fists and glaring at Roger with a newly found fierceness that he immediately put into his voice, a loud crash of thunder from outside only accentuating the admission. "I came out to you." He repeated in a lower voice, looking away from Roger's glare and down at the floor, "And you made me feel awful the next day after I faced the biggest fear of my life." 

Roger opened his mouth to argue, but quickly closed it and looked down at the floor again. Tears of frustration finally fell down John's face as he crumbled onto the couch behind him, resting his face on his hands. Before that day, he had only started to consider coming out after analyzing Brian's odd behavior around their frontman for the past year, making him question their guitarist's sexuality, which was later proven true after he came out about his love for both men and women. He was envious of them for a bit, knowing that the two of them had been able to date women and actually care about them while he was stuck in meaningless relationships with them, little to no love apparent between him and those girls, since he knew he couldn't truly love them back, no matter how much they may have loved him. 

But Roger on the other hand? He wouldn't even touch the concept of sexuality. Even if it wasn't his own. He'd get extremely uncomfortable, and for the past few months it had been even more obvious. That only continued to make him doubt Roger's straightness. But his breakup with Claire is what confused him the most. He was so heartbroken after she left him that it made him think he did love her. Yet he never called her, went to her house, nothing to try and win her back. 

John finally gave in to everything he had felt for what felt like forever. The anger, sadness, frustration, and guilt that had constantly flared up while in the presence of others, having to hold his tongue and wait till he could let them out while he was alone. Now he was letting someone else see how he was actually feeling, allowing everything to come out at once instead of in small fragments while he was alone in his room. Tears fell across his face and down onto his jacket and the part of his shirt that was visible. He had tried for so long to be patient with Roger and his actions just to be able to at least return to a friendship. But that dark cloud would always hang over it, and it would never go away if they had returned to it, no matter how many times he would apologize or try and make it better. 

"I...I trusted y-you. W-with my b-biggest secret. Does that mean nothing to you? E-even if y-you hate every fiber o-of my b-being, c-can you at least sh-show me some kind o-of compassion and not...?" He began, unable to finish that sentence before being cut off by another cry. 

He looked up at Roger, taken aback at the sincerity and guilt upon his face. Every attempt to continue with the angry act had vanished. He sank down onto the other couch, resting his face in his hands again, that defeated look that John knew all too well after seeing it day after day for the past few months returning to his face. 

"I was vulnerable. The last thing I expected you to do was...was to kiss me back and say that back to me, stuff I'd only been able to fantasize about." He paused when he felt another sob well up in his throat at the sensitivity of those months leading up to that moment. He had had a crush on the older boy for the longest time, almost immediately after the release of their third album and they had started to get along quite well. But those fluttery feelings of butterflies had soon developed into a deep seated love and protection for their drummer. All he wanted was to be at his side, just to be with him forever. For the two of them to share something that few people found in another. A trust, a friendship, a love that would be as precious as finding pure happiness. 

But everything before that had to be reduced to a fantasy. He couldn't openly talk about it with anyone. He was still closeted, hiding in there from the prejudice of the outside world, not brave enough to face any criticism from the press, friends, and especially his family. It wasn't until that he saw those odd behaviors from their bandmates whenever they were in the same room that he began to wonder if Brian wasn't straight, or even if they were together yet. Everyone in their friend circle new about Freddie's sexual preferences, or lack there of. But Brian's had always been a gray area. He had seemed into the girls he was with, but always acted a bit off around their frontman for quite a while, those awkward movements only becoming more obvious over the past year.

Freddie and Brian had been lucky, unlike what had happened between Roger and him. Brian had come out to Freddie, and then the rest of their friend circle not too long after and was welcomed with such a warm acceptance from everyone that it made the fear of him coming out to everyone else diminish. But his original come out with Roger had been disastrous. It made him want to go back into the closet and hide there, hope and pray that Roger would just forget that whole night. Yet Freddie had managed to get him to admit to it not too long after it had happened, the only reason why he had gotten it out of him in the first place was because of his state of mind that night. But there was no way back in once two people knew and the last thing he needed was more people to learn about his sexuality, which would in turn make him the topic of conversation for a while, pushing Roger even farther away. 

"I never wanted to hurt you...'Sorry' couldn't even begin to fix it. I was just so...so happy. For the first time I felt I-I could actually be h-happy with s-someone. But sleeping w-with you while in t-that state-" He began.  

"I wanted it." Roger mumbled quickly, another layer of tension being added to the room as a deafening silence took over at the sudden revelation. John looked up, still trying to process those three, simple words Roger had just told him. It was a huge shock. After months of him constantly blaming it on the alcohol and impaired judgement, making him feel like he had done it without his sober consent, and denying any feelings towards him, saying that sentence was a relief, but also brought the feeling of a brick being thrown at his chest. 

"W-what?" Was all John managed to say, despite many other questions and comments running through his head, the feelings of each differing from another. Some were out of anger, others out of joy, but the basic confused word was the one he uttered. 

"I-I wanted it..." He repeated, pausing before continuing on with the rest of his confession, "F-For such a-a long time..." 

"Then why did you pin it on me? Making it seem like I did it without your consent." 

Roger inhaled deeply, trying to get to the beginning of a long, emotionally draining explanation. He closed his eyes, his mouth opening from time to time to begin a sentence, only to close it again. John laid back onto the couch, folding his arms across his lap, finally able to recompose his patience and await the answers to the questions that had formed in his mind over the past few months. All those lonely nights to himself, emotional arguments, and those awkward and deathly silences that formed whenever they were in the same room together would finally get some type of relief and responses to those unfinished sentences Roger would say to him. 

A sharp cry from Roger shook him out of his thoughts, seeing teardrops fall down from his misty eyes and fall onto the carpet beneath them, his lip trembling as he fought not to break down again. He was so close to talking about everything that had trapped him in the closet for however many years he had known. Able to feel safer around at least one person and let all those secrets fall out onto the table. 

"Oh Roger..." John whispered, getting up from his seat to join Roger on the opposing couch, immediately wrapping his arms around his trembling frame, trying his best to offer some type of comfort that he had needed after all those years. Roger finally gave into his attempts, feeling his tense frame relax at his touch as he went limp in his arms, placing his head into the crook of his neck, muffling his cries as he ran his hand along his back. Although he hated seeing Roger crying, he was slightly relieved that he was no longer pushing any of his emotions away anymore. 

"I'm sc-scared...It's just s-so hard..." He whined between sobs, lifting his head up slightly so that he could hear him.

"Hush now, talk when you want to." John comforted, holding back his curiosity and letting the older boy have a chance to calm himself down, drawing soft circles around the small of his back, managing to weaken his bawling to a quiet whimpering, the streams of tears being reduced to small drops inside his eyes. He desperately clung to his jacket, not wanting to lose touch with him for split second. After months of Roger avoiding almost any contact with him and years of being unable to have any intimate connection with him without causing a type of awkwardness, it felt like heaven to have the ability to have his arms wrapped around him while actually helping him with whatever internal struggles he was having. 

After a few more moments of Roger trying to gain some control of himself again, John felt him push away, wiping away the few remaining tears from his eyes. John laid his hands on his lap, looking over at him and waited for the opportunity to ask. Once Roger's breathing had slowed to a normal pattern and he had calmed his body enough for it to cease its shaking, he asked the first thing that was in his mind, feeling it was the most obvious and important one to ask. 

"Why was it so hard for you? I mean, talking about anything to do with someone's sexuality, and yours in particular." 

He noticed him flinch once he brought up the topic of his sexuality again, making him only more concerned for the drummer and wondering what could have made him so sensitive to the topic. Now it wasn't like he or Brian, or anyone for that matter in this day and age was alright with talking about their preferences unless you were straight, but he seemed to get more jumpy and anxious than he or Brian had, always getting fidgety and trying to engage as little as possible in that conversation, sometimes leaving the room completely.

"You know as well as everyone else that it's not exactly accepted to be anything but straight. Yes, it is better today. But there's still prejudice. But it's...it's..." He shut his eyes and paused, John reaching out to comfort him again if he was going to break down again, but a long exhale afterwards told him otherwise as he recomposed himself and resumed his explanation. "My parents beat into my head when I was younger that if you were gay, God would punish you and everyone else on earth would help carry that out. They started it, and it's because of that that I absolutely despise religion, but it's how everyone at school would act, especially my friends." 

"They talked a-about..." He stopped again, taking long, slow breaths to help calm his nerves. John was remaining still and silent, but was already completely engrossed in what Roger had already told him and was starting to have this sense of dread that wherever Roger was going with his story, it was only going to go downhill.

"They were especially cruel. Freely talking about people like...like us like we were animals, even less than that, calling us 'its' at times, like we weren't capable of feeling anything. There was this one kid who had actually come out during my twelfth year and he was treated...treated like some abomination. Teased mercilessly, attacked when no one was in sight, even some teachers finding ways to treat him differently, trying to find ways to give him lower grades and turning their heads if he was ever bullied." 

"My friends on the other hand took it to another level. We saw him walking home from the school one day after hours, figured he'd gotten another detention for another minor thing again, but they did what they usually did, shout insults at him that were directed towards his sexuality. Typical ones dealing with religion or just how he was a freak of nature. But he didn't react, he just ignored them. It really ticked them off that they weren't getting any sort of reaction, so they took to throwing anything nearby at him. Stones, random debris, one of them shattering the end of a glass bottle and throwing it right at his face. Barely missed the poor bastard, but he'd already gotten hit by almost everything else. Didn't leave it there. R-ran across t-the street, a-and...Threw him into the gate...One grabbed the bottle and slashed his arm while every one kept aiming for his chest or face, trying to knock him unconscious." 

"And I just stood there. I couldn't join in, but I didn't stop it either. T-to think that's what I'd get if I came out...And no one to go to for help. I could have been killed and no one would give a damn. I'd be just another dead, corrupt soul to them who didn't deserve any kind of sympathy because I-I didn't...Couldn't love a girl." 

"But Roger," John began once he had paused to let the story sink in before saying anything else on the subject. John did take notice of the small amount of relief in his face now that someone else knew about that extremely terrifying experience that would traumatize anyone who endured it, yet he still looked sick after having to envision that memory once again. "It isn't the sixties anymore. Not everyone is like that now." 

"But it's not accepted nor will it ever be. We'll always seem like freaks to some group of people. So why give all that up when I could just be with a girl for the rest of my life and live safely...No bashes from people walking by, no religious bigots shouting about God in my face, no denial of work, nothing. It all seemed hopeless. I tried for years to find some girl, trying to convince myself I could at least live with her and let her think I loved her, but it never worked. They'd want to move on to something and I just couldn't ever...ever do it. I'd leave them soon after, knowing that it'd hurt more if they left me." 

"It really hit me that day and I got so frustrated with the fact I couldn't find someone that I was in such a foul mood and Brian set me off. We fought about that damn song and I just stormed out. I couldn't care less about the song. It was his anyway. Then you come along, found me in that alleyway...I didn't want you there. You were the last person I needed to have find me there in that...that state. I was trying so hard not to give into those damn feelings for so long. Ever since we finished A Night at the Opera. It terrified me that I was falling for a guy. That it wasn't just some weird thing and it would blow over before I could start liking girls. That hope was just shattered and I tried to convince myself I wasn't falling for you. It's even worse that it was one of my best friends. I had no clue that you were...were like me. And...And then..." 

"That night came by and just ruined everything that you had tried to keep together." John finished, receiving a gentle nod from Roger. 

"I wanted it. But I just woke up feeling scared that someone else knew. It felt so right, but that was because you had just told me that and I reacted so quickly that I didn't even stop to think about what I was doing and just went with it. Then the next morning came by and I'd realized what had happened and was just terrified that I'd come out to someone. It was such a shock when I woke up next to you and I just blamed it right on you and the alcohol. I immediately went to go look for another girl and Claire came along. I needed a way to convince myself that I was still straight and it was just a dream, that it hadn't happened and I was still safe. And then I go and...and fuck it up." 

"Roger, that relationship wasn't going to work. You two wouldn't click." 

"It's not that! We were doing well...She didn't want to leave me and I didn't want to leave her, at least not yet. She may have actually liked me, b-but I fucked up that night." He took a deep breath, "She wanted to...to move to another level. Quicker than any other girl I'd dated. I'd usually leave them soon after that, but I was scared that someone else would find out. So what better way to tell myself I was straight then do something with a girl? I couldn't shag her though, it just wasn't possible. She settled for blowing me for the time being. It felt awkward seeing as I was focused more on keeping the damned thing up than seeming like I was enjoying it. I just wanted it to be over as fast as possible. Once she managed to actually get me close, I go and fuck up in the worse way possible."

He closed his mouth, biting down on his bottom lip to keep it from shaking. John made a movement towards him to help console him again, but he shook his head in response, calming his breathing and starting up again. 

"I moaned your name instead of her's when I finished." He sighed heavily, "She didn't take too kindly to that. Of course she got mad, furious actually. She already knew who you were, so I couldn't lie and say it was someone else, nor is there any girl named John in all of Britain. She didn't give me any chance to explain. What was there to explain? I moaned out my best friend's name when I finished. She called me every gay slur in the book, broke up with me, and left with a slam of the door. Never heard from her again nor did I feel the need to call her back." 

"I went back to drinking just to try and forget what I'd done to her. I was so scared that she'd mention something to anyone else, especially the press. But that went away after nothing happened for a week or two. But that wasn't why I kept drinking. I still had to deal w-with you. I was absolutely disgusted with how I was treating you. I didn't want any of that, but I couldn't just stop and have to face that bloody conversation again with you. So I kept you away with threats and constantly ignoring you. Never once did it help me. All it did was make me drink and cry myself to sleep at night. Every night for weeks on end..."

Roger looked over at him, his eyes weary and red from the tears, but those shadows of sorrow and stress had receded. For the first time in months, he actually looked relieved. All those memories that were out in the open, allowing the stress that came with having to keep them locked up to finally leave. John jumped as Roger fell into his chest again, immediately wrapping his arms around his torso as small wet spots started to form on his shirt as Roger began to tear up again. 

John was still too stunned to actually do anything but sit there while Roger sobbed once more. No one could have prepared him for all that. From the day you were born, through the teenage years, your whole entire life being told that what you were was wrong and could actually be punished by law was already difficult. Then having to witness something as vicious as that firsthand, being forced to link every conversation to that experience and then repressing those feelings even further because of his presence out of pure fear that that would happen to him if he ever admitted it. Then him actually sleeping with him which in turn ruined everything with Claire because of Roger's stronger feelings towards him. A cold wave of guilt crashed over him. It really was his fault that all of this was going on, that they were locked in the back room and Roger was crying into his shirt, clinging to him for dear life.   

  "I couldn't...Couldn't stand hurting the man I love." Roger whispered, "I'm...I'm so sick of hiding i-it. Having t-to hide behind those g-girls, breaking their hearts just t-to protect m-me and p-push you a-away, bury t-those feelings a-away and l-live with myself. And then t-to hear that you love me and get to jump r-right into one o-of my deepest, darkest fantasies was a-amazing. It felt w-wonderful to be with you for one night, to forget it all and b-be...be myself. Then to remember it all t-the next day and..." He paused, his eyes going wide at whatever realization had just formed in his mind. He looked up at him with a look of shame and sincerity upon his face as he quietly continued his sentence, "Oh god John, I-I'm so sorry..." 

"Don't be." John told him, wiping the remaining lines of tears off his face. 

"I put you through a living hell for months just to keep my sorry ass safe. I wanted that safe feeling back again, but I couldn't find it there any more. There was always this cloud of fear hanging over my head if someone ever found out without me telling them first, or having someone come after me. And the thought of actually telling someone th-that I'm...gay..." 

He felt Roger tense up after uttering that last word, cutting off his sentence and awaiting his response, as though he was expecting him to start shouting at him for finally admitting what his sexuality was, for him to make all those nightmares come true. But John was having none of it. It wasn't his fault at all and he could never even consider hurting him in any way, shape, or form.

"Roger, look at me." John said, pushing his face up from his chest, his eyes wide with anticipation, slightly red from tears, his pupils still slightly dilated with fear. It broke his heart to still see those familiar emotions in his eyes, but it was such a relief to see so much of the stress and misery gone from his face.

"I'm not going to get mad at you. Nor will Freddie, nor will Brian. None of us will yell at you, beat you, do anything to you. We've all had to face similar problems, so don't worry about them. Especially me. You shouldn't fear the man who loves you with all his heart." He spoke that last part with the most gentle voice he could, seeing all that fear disappear from Roger's eyes as his whole face lit up. For the first time in months, John saw a smile on his face, a fresh light in his eyes, and a healthy blush cover his upper body. 

"Don't cry love." John whispered softly as tears started to return to his eyes, though this time he was sure they were out of joy and relief. John pulled him up a bit in order to wrap his own arms around the older boy, his body completely relaxed against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against him. He nodded softly, letting out a long sigh of relief. He shifted back down to lay his head against his stomach, wrapping his arms around his torso and nuzzling against him like a baby animal. 

"I-I know...I'm fine. I'm just...just so relieved to have finally...finally gotten that off my chest. To finally let s-someone else know." He managed, his grip around his jacket tightening at that last sentence. 

"And I'm so proud of you that you've been able to come out." And to me first. "You'll be safe, don't worry. It'll get better. You'll have help from people who care about you and I'll be at your side every step of the way." 

"I'm...I'm sorry. I really a-am. I shouldn't have done that t-to you. Yell at you the day after you came out and then you go and actually act patient and sympathetic with m-me after that and kept trying to fix this and I just kept abusing you just to keep myself safe from nothing. Good lord you have no idea how much I wanted to say something to you. I w-was so close to saying something last night, but I just couldn't." 

"It's a scary, terrifying thing when you're faced with coming out. Some people find it easier than others and others wait their whole lives before saying a word. It makes sense that you were scared, especially after telling me all that, but there's nothing to worry about. You're fine, and you'll be safe, don't you worry." 

...

After sitting there in silence, John running his hand through Roger's hair while he laid across his lap, arms still irremovably wrapped around him, the only sounds being his steady breathing and the gentle beat of the rain hitting against the outside of the studio. Roger's eyes were kept shut, just to block out everything around them, to be completely absorbed in anything he was doing as he laid next to him in a closed position, knees brought up to his stomach and slightly curled up. A gentle knock at the door disturbed the peacefulness of their surroundings as John whispered a gentle "Come in." As expected, Freddie and Brian were standing on the opposite side of the door, a mix of concern and curiosity upon their faces, Brian's still having a lingering shred of surprise. 

"You guys okay?" Freddie asked gently.

John looked down at Roger, his eyes still wide with expectation as he looked up from his position underneath him, giving a gentle nod against his lower body. 

"Much better..." John replied, not taking his gaze off of the older boy as he shifted into a more open position, letting his legs fall down from against him to the end of the couch. 

"Would you like to come back out there?" 

Roger didn't even respond, he was already starting to sit up, still having one hand clinging to his jacket as they both got up and headed over to the other two. John looked behind him, seeing that dreadful fear start to come back into his eyes. 

"It's alright." He comforted, bringing his hand up to his back, gently rubbing it along his spine. He guessed that Roger knew what was coming up too and probably did not want to endure that whole thing again, this time having to deal with two other opinions on what had happened.

Freddie and Brian sat down on one of the couches of the room, Brian laying back against it and draping his arm over the edge while Freddie leaned forward and folded his hands together while they took a seat on the opposing couch. Roger immediately nestled himself next to him, keeping a tight grip around his jacket. Ever since he'd finished his story he had been stuck to his side, acting like a child who'd found his mother after losing her at the store. Despite this, John knew he couldn't be the one to tell the others. No, Roger didn't have to say everything if he didn't want to. But the other two deserved some kind of explanation after being affected by this too. 

"Go on Rog." John said, motioning towards their bandmates who were thankfully being quiet for the time being, not immediately throwing questions their way and instead letting them choose when they wanted to start talking. 

Roger sat up into a closed position, hugging his knees against his chest as he began the explanation yet again, this time without as much crying or pauses. He started the same way he did with him, telling about how everyone who was close to him growing up would treat the gay community, the brutal attack on the student, the description really affecting the two of them, for when he finished the two of them looked absolutely horrified. Soon he got into the more recent events of realizing his feelings for him, their night together, the morning after, what happened with Claire, why he had been acting like that for the past few weeks, everything. 

Only twice did Roger seem like he was going to break down again and each time he'd stop talking, look away from the two of them and John would jump in to comfort him once again. After knowing him for years, the role-reversal of having Roger act so sensitive to everything and have him as the one he'd come to for any type of care was still shocking. He never could have imagined Roger acting like this. Even though he had only gained this role a mere hour ago, it didn't diminish the effect. Roger had thrown all his trust into him after he told him everything and still looked so fragile and scared that the other two would turn on him and kick him out of the band, or worse. 

"Good lord Roger..." Brian muttered as he finished, "I-I...Damn." 

John wasn't at all surprised by their bandmates' silence after hearing his story, who wouldn't be stunned after hearing that whole thing? Freddie seemed to still be taking it in, since John knew that he was considering what to say after hearing all of that. 

Freddie cleared his throat and looked directly at their drummer. "Roger...It's obvious that this was not easy for you to deal with and none of us could even begin to relate to every hardship you had to undergo. But I want you to know that everything you did over the past few months is not your fault, so there isn't any need to apologize to any of us-" 

"I should be the one apologizing." Brian said in a quiet voice, the guilt from everything he had said about Roger clearly evident on his face, "I shouldn't have said anything about your actions when I didn't know anything." He gave a sincere look over at him too, silently apologizing for everything he had said earlier about the older boy. He felt that what he had said was more directed to him overall since he never said anything offensive towards Roger in person, at least not after their dispute all those months ago. Roger nodded softly against his arm, his grip around his jacket loosening now that they were showing support towards him, starting to disprove his fears of them attacking him after telling them everything. 

"And I'm happy that you're able to trust the three of us. We won't tell anyone. And you're lucky to have gotten the man you've obviously been infatuated with for quite some time now." 

"Y-you knew?" Roger asked, his face starting to pale again at Freddie's revelation. 

"Darling it's was quite obvious. I just never said anything. Mainly because I couldn't believe that we're a band full of queers." He teased, "Just kidding. But seriously. No, I didn't expect it to have been going on that long and I could never have guessed that that's what caused this whole thing. Especially since it went on with us in the other room. Surprised you two didn't wake us up." He joked, trying to add a bit of humor to the conversation. John felt his body relax as Roger gave a muffled giggle at his comment, not able to suppress a small laugh of his own after being able to hear Roger laugh after months of crying.   

  "Not like John was too good at hiding his crush from you. I did suspect it for a long time. God he'd follow you like some lost puppy. But he's been infatuated with you for years. I'd already known he was gay, or at least not straight, for a long time. So I had to find a way for him to come out to me on both his own terms yet with a little push. You were tricky, I'll be honest about that. I wasn't too sure about you. Though hearing all that last night did help give me a push to do something about you guys since something between you two just didn't sit right with me and it turns out that was why. You two have been longing for each other for ages!" He finished, trying to end his serious explanation with a lighter tone. 

"He's right you know." John told him, lifting his head up from his arm to look him in the eye. "I've been in love with you for years and still am to this day. Ahw don't cry..." John began as tears started to return to his eyes. He pulled him up to his chest again, cupping the side of his face and stroked his cheek with his thumb while Roger tried to calm himself down again with shaky inhalations. "It's fine. It's alright." He whispered as Roger released one of his holds on his jacket and brought his hand up to hold his.

"I-I know. It's just...just so nice to actually hear it and not imagine it. Having to imagine everything and then have this little voice tell you it'll never happen, that it's just a false hope and you'll never really be able to come out and tell people that...that you're gay." He paused, slightly tensing up at saying it again, this time in front of the rest of the band. "It'd just say that it's safer to be quiet, you'll lose everything if you said you're not straight and-" He said, starting to speak quicker as he began listing off all those fears that had been glued to his thoughts for years.

"Don't start with that again. Please don't let that nuisance keep telling you all those things. I'm here for you and I'll always be there, no matter the circumstances."

"And I'll try my best to reciprocate that. I may not be the best at first, but you've been patient with me for the past few months and everything I had to put you through so I don't think that'll be too hard."

John had completely forgot about the presence of the other two, wanting to keep all his focus on every word and action Roger did as though they were still in the back room together. He couldn't care less if they were watching and listening to their conversation, the two of them knew better than to interrupt. His heart melted as he looked at the warm and infatuated look in his eyes and the smile of both relief and joy plastered on his face. 

"I've wanted this, all of it, for so long. So very long. It feels like some sort of fantasy come true and the fact that I can actually say..." Roger began, moving his hand away from his jacket and up his shirt, looking him straight in the eye before he said those three simple words he had longed to hear once more.

"Say I love you." He added, John's heart almost stopping after finally hearing it. Years of dreaming, hoping, and yearning to hear him say it in reality and not just in his dreams was almost too good to be true. Yet there it was. The one thing he had desired to have Roger say to him ever since he had fallen for him all those years ago. 

"And I love you." He replied, pulling Roger closer to him, just to hold him and never let go. "I'm so happy that you're able to get out of that dark place and start to move on. And I'll be at your side every step of the way." 

"Let me thank you for that in advance." Roger whispered, leaning forwards and pressing his lips against his, John responding immediately by threading his hands through Roger's hair and pulling him closer, feeling every previous restriction and worry fall away with that gesture he had wanted to act on since the day he fell head over heels for their drummer. He felt a light blush creep up on his face at the gentle applause from their bandmates, yet was so focused on the kiss that he barely noticed it, or even cared about it. As they separated, John felt Roger's arms stay wrapped around his upper body with his head resting on his chest, his face beaming with joy and trust. For the first time in years, there was this sense of tranquility in knowing that no matter the troubles they'd face ahead, any prejudice, rejection, whatever anyone had to say about them, they'd face it. John didn't care how long it'd take, for he had finally gotten proof of what he had known for so long, he and Roger were meant to be together, forever.