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radiosteve · 5 years

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Need Your Loving Tonight Ch. 11

Summary: You spend the entire day in studio with the band before something happens and the boys need your help.

Note: Me posting before midnight? That’s crazy! Hope you like this chapter because things are going to heat up a little in the next one. So get ready! As always, the italicized part is the reader’s thoughts. This photo is one that I found on google. I do not own any rights to it. If you want to be added to the taglist send me a message or an ask and I’ll add you!

Warnings: Language

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader, John Deacon x Reader

Words: 3.5k+

November 11, 1972

“No, no. Brian, you need to put more soul into it. It’s not someone else’s song, it’s yours. Play it like you mean it,” Freddie’s voice traveled through the microphone into the recording booth. Brian’s curly hair shook violently as he nodded along, readjusting his grip on his guitar before signaling for the track to play again. The melodic notes squeaked through the studio’s speakers as Brian redid the one guitar part that he had been trying to master for the last thirty minutes. You sat on the couch along the back wall, peering over the head of the sound booth technician, trying to see your best friend recording his solo once more.

You’d been in the studio with the boys all day and your eyes felt dry and heavy from the lack of natural light. The boys had recorded a little less than half of the album throughout the long hours of the day. They’d each taken turns going in and out of the booth to record their own instrument. But their favorite part of recording was the singing. As they all stumbled into the booth, throwing headphones over their ears, you could see the passion filling their eyes. It all felt so surreal to them. Surreal to you too. To think that these four talented men were effectively fulfilling their dreams with a few recordings seemed insane. Your closest friends, that were destined for something much larger than could be imagined, were playing these songs. Songs that could kick start their career.

Your gaze pulled from Brian as you watched Roger slump back into the room. He’d left about fifteen minutes ago for a smoke break and something within you wished to accept his offer to join. While your taste for cigarettes was starting to slow, it only seemed to heighten when Roger was around. Maybe it was because of that May night two years ago when Roger’s lips tasted of honey and smoke. But then again, there was something about the taste of honey now that made you want to gag. Roger plopped down in a chair near the desk, looking into the booth. His body swayed slightly, and his eyes looked lost. Freddie leaned into the microphone once more, praising Brian for his performance and instructing him to come out of the booth. It wasn’t until Fred looked down beside him that he noticed that Roger had come back in.

“My god, you smell like booze,” Freddie threw a hand to his chest as he gasped dramatically. Your ears perked up and Brian walked into the room, hearing Freddie’s words. John stood up from his spot on the other end of the couch, trying to get a look at Roger.

“Great, that’s great,” Brian threw his hands in the air, angrily looking at Roger. “We’ve still got two hours left in the studio and our drummer is completely wasted.”

“I thought he was just going out for a smoke break,” John’s voice chimed in from behind everyone.

“Yes, well I guess he thought that a few drinks wouldn’t hurt,” Freddie ran his hand through his hair, pulling his bangs back from his face. “What has gotten into him. He’s been acting like this all week,” the boys nodded along as you sunk into your spot on the sofa. You had noticed the change in Roger’s behavior throughout the week as well. He’d been much more reckless and impulsive lately. Ever since that night at the club last week, Roger had been acting out left and right. And you couldn’t help but think that you were the reason. As selfish as it may sound, it appeared as though Roger’s mood changed the second he saw you pressed against John on the dancefloor. A wave of guilt flooded your body as your hand came up to press against your forehead and John glanced over at you.

“Well, how are we supposed to keep recording without a drummer to do the backtracks?” Brian crossed his long arms over his chest as he puffed angrily. You kept watching as the boys looked around at each other over top of Roger. It wasn’t until you heard a muffled grunt that realized Roger was trying to speak.

“I’m fine, guys. I can still play, easy peasy,” Roger giggled out as his words slurred. You felt your eyes roll while Brian stared down at Roger with an incredulous look etched across his face. Brian turned bright red and John quickly grabbed Brian’s arm, trying to restrain him from doing something he might regret. Roger tried to stand up from his chair before he slipped and fell right to the floor. “Woah,” he breathed out, looking up towards the ceiling. “Someone better turn off the boat, ‘cause the room’s rocking,” Roger chuckled at his own joke and sank down onto the floor so that he was laying down. Freddie tried his best not to laugh at his drunken friend, but you only felt pity fill your heart. It’s my fault that he’s like this right now.

“As amusing as you may find this, Fred,” Brian spoke, his words laced with annoyance. “We can’t finish recording for the day if we don’t have a drummer,” Freddie looked up at Brian, not finding Roger’s antics funny anymore. It was just then when an idea came to John.

“Y/n can play the drums. She can do the backtracking for us today so we can record the other instruments and vocals. Then Roger can just redo them when he’s sober,” everyone’s head whipped in your direction, including Roger’s from his spot on the floor and you felt your cheeks heat up. Brian walked over to you and kneeled down in front of the couch that you sat on. He grabbed your hands from your lap, wrapping them in his.

“I know what you’re going to say, but please. Please help us just for today,” Brian brought his hands up to his mouth, his eyes locked onto yours.

“No, no way. I haven’t played in two months. There’s no way,” the words slipped past your lips as shook your head.

“Please, Y/n. I’ll owe you big time, we all will,” Brian looked over at his bandmates near the control panel and they began to nod their heads in agreement.

“I don’t know, Bri. I’m really out of practice”

“That’s bullshit. You’re one of the best drummers I’ve ever heard. You could go years without playing and still be better than most,” John spoke up from next to Freddie. “Please Y/n, we need you,” your eyes locked onto his and he gave you a soft smile.

“Ok. I’ll do it,” the room filled with a chorus of cheers as Brian squeezed your hand and pulled you up off the couch. Roger still laid on the floor, completely oblivious to what was happening, but cheering nonetheless. “Alright, what am I playing?” you asked as sheets of music were thrown into your hands. Roger slowly slid up from the floor as you looked over a song titled “Modern Times Rock ‘n’ Roll”. You moved into the booth, grabbing a pair of drumsticks and positioning yourself on the stool. Hit after hit, you started to get a feel for the beat as you kept playing. Brian, John, and Freddie were so consumed in their conversation that they didn’t see Roger slide into the booth with you.

“Sometimes I forget how good you are at the drums,” Roger had waited until you finished playing to speak. Your head snapped up to look at him, before gazing back down at the music sheets in front of you.

“Thanks, but it would mean a bit more if you were sober,” you quipped before starting a steady beat with the kick drum. Roger moved closer to you, letting himself sway to the sound as you started to follow along with the sheet music.

“It’s honestly kind of hot to hear you playing a song that I wrote,” Roger leaned closer to you and you stopped, twirling the drumsticks in your hand.

“Rog, you’re drunk. Try not to say things that you’ll regret in the morning,” you pointed a drumstick at him, and he threw his hands up in defense.

“Oh, I won’t. Trust me,” his face hovered near yours and your eyes widened.

“No, no, no,” you pushed yourself up off the seat before Roger could get any closer to you. “There is no way that I’m going to let you kiss me. Especially when your drunk,” Roger looked a little disappointed as you moved further away from him. You looked towards the glass window and saw the boys finishing up their conversation before Freddie leaned down towards the mic.

“Alright Y/n, are you ready?” Freddie asked and you nodded, sitting back onto the drum stool. “Rog? What the hell are you doing in there? Get out,” you glanced over at Roger and cut him off before he could respond to Freddie.

“He was trying to give me a few pointers for the song. He’s spewing nonsense but I think I’ve got it down,” you flashed Freddie a wide smile as Roger grumpily walked out of the booth.

“Start whenever you like, darling,” Freddie gave you a slight nod as soon as Roger shut the door behind him. You fingers danced across the drumstick as you twirled it before bringing it down upon the drum set. The song flew out of you at a rapid pace. Each note, every beat swirled together creating one mass of rhythm. By the time you finished the song, your hair was slightly tousled, and your fingers were tingling. You looked up towards the faces of your friends, only to be met with an array of expressions. Brian gave you a slight smirk that pretty much said ‘that’s my best friend’. Freddie’s mouth was gaping open as he stared at you wildly. Roger looked a little dazed but also completely turned on. And John had a giant smile plastered across his face. He was beaming from ear to ear as you managed to calm your breathing.

“How was that?” your voice still sounded a little labored, but you had almost entirely recovered from your drum session.

“Roger’s out, you’re in,” Freddie words broke through the speaker and you heard a quiet ‘hey!’ from Roger in the background. You stood up with a chuckle, putting the drumsticks back before walking over to the door. When you stepped into the room, you were engulfed in a large hug, knocking the breath out of you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Brian squeezed you even tighter as you brought your arms around his back.

“Not bad for an accountant,” Roger chimed in and Brian let go of you to shoot him a nasty glare.

“Oh hush, you’re just jealous of the fact that Y/n managed to play your song better than you,” Freddie gave Roger a light push before tapping your shoulder an affectionate pat. John stood behind them all, the wide smile still present on his lips. He welcomed you into a warm hug and you rested your arms around his neck.

“I knew you could do it,” John practically whispered, pulling back so that your face was only a few inches from his. “The best drummer in the world,” John’s eyes roamed yours before falling down your lips and quickly moving back up.

“That’s a little far-fetched, don’t you think?” you giggled out and John smiled back at you.

“Not if it’s true. And it is completely true. You are one hundred percent, the best drummer in the entire world,” John let out a light laugh with his words, still holding you close.

“Don’t let Roger hear you. He might try to kick you out of the band,” your smile still lingered on your lips. John began to lean in, enthralled with the idea of his mouth melding against your perfect smile. But it only took him a second to realize what he was doing before he pulled back, releasing himself from your shared embrace. You noticed the longing in his eyes and felt the warmth pull from you before Freddie started to speak up behind you.

“Alright Johnny boy go get your ass in the booth to record,” John gave you a gentle smile before walking through the door and picking up his bass off of the stand. You caught Freddie looking in your direction. His eyebrows were raised and a knowing smirk filled his face. Freddie gave you a thumbs up before turning back towards the control panel and waiting for John to start playing.

By the end of the recording session, everyone had finished their instrumental and background vocals. The only parts left to be recorded were Roger’s. The five of you shuffled out of the studio as the technician stayed behind to clean up his equipment. You held Brian’s guitar case as he helped steady Roger on the walk back to his car.

“Y/n, do you mind getting a ride home from John? I don’t think there will be enough room for you with Freddie, Rog, and my guitar,” Brian spoke, his forehead creased with worry, hoping that you wouldn’t be too upset.

“That’s fine. As long as John doesn’t mind driving me. I don’t want to impose,” you shoved your free hand into the pocket of your coat, trying to keep it warm.

“It’s no trouble at all, love,” John spoke up from behind you, his bass case in his left hand as he walked up next to you. “Let me just unlock it and throw this thing in the trunk while you put Brian’s guitar away,” John pulled out his car key, shoving into the lock on the side door before pulling it open and unlocking the rest of the doors. You gave Freddie and Brian a quick hug after you placed the red special in the trunk and avoiding Roger who was already passed out in the backseat, before settling into the passenger seat of John’s car.

“Thank you, John. I really appreciate the ride,” you smiled at John as he slid into the seat next to you, closing his door and starting the engine. He gave you a slight nod and drove off down the road. Soft music played in the background as you and John made light conversation. His hand, which was resting on the stick shift, slowly inched its way over towards yours. After what seemed like an eternity, John finally grasped your hand lightly, intertwining your fingers with his as he continued to drive. Your heart began to race at such a simple gesture, filling your whole chest with an indescribable tingle. With shy eyes, you peaked over at John and saw his blushing cheeks. A smile grew on your lips as you admired his bashfulness.

Before you could continue on thinking about how cute John’s reddened face looked under the passing streetlights, the car came to a stop. Suddenly, you realized that you had arrived at your apartment building and your heart sank a little, not wanting to get out of the car. Leaving John seemed to be so difficult, especially when you thought about the shared warmth between each of your fingers at the moment.

“Well, here we are,” John’s voice was soft and quiet, as if he didn’t want to be speaking. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, but it seemed like every syllable he uttered drew him further away from it, from you. “You were great today,” he looked up at you, admiring the way the moonlight and streetlamps brought light to your face in the dark. “We honestly couldn’t have kept recording without you.”

“Well, what are friends for, right?” the words slipped passed your lips and you immediately regretted them.

“Right, friend,” John mumbled lowly, a hint of sadness on his face as he did so.

“I- uh, I didn't...” you were interrupted by a loud knock on the car window as both you and John jumped in your seats, your hands ripping apart. “Oh my god, Sally,” you rolled your window down, now face to face with your roommate.

“Hi love. Hi John,” Sally said, sending a wave in Deaky’s direction. “I just got home, and I’d hate to interrupt but I left my key upstairs and the door is locked. Could you come unlock it for me please,” Sally plastered a big cheesy smile across her face as you reluctantly agreed.

“I’ll be up in a second,” you called out to her as she walked towards the building. You rolled your window back up before turning over to John. “I’m so sorry about her, she really has no boundaries. And thank you for taking me home, John. It’s always nice to spend time alone with you,” a smile crept across both of your faces before you opened the car door and got out. John watched as you walked into the lobby of your building, his smile still spread over his face. His heart stuttered and his stomach filled with butterflies as he thought back to the feeling of his palm pressed against yours. After a few more seconds of peering through the glass windows of the lobby, John drove away feeling a warm and indescribable sensation spread from his cheeks down to the tips of his toes.

November 12, 1972

You woke up groggily to the echoed ring of the telephone from the living room of your apartment. It had stopped after a few seconds but then startled awake once more. You groaned, pushing the bed sheets off your body, creating a shiver that ran down your spine from the sudden rush of cold air. You knew Sally wouldn’t get up out of bed to answer the phone so you would have to. As your feet padded across the cold wood floor, you grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped yourself in it. The phone was on its last ring as you picked it up and held it to your ear.

“Hello?” your voice cracked and sounded heavy from having just woken up.

“Hi Y/n,” Roger spoke, his voice deep and rough as he let out a long breath.

“Roger? Why are you calling so early? It’s only…” you glanced down at the watch on your left wrist to check the time. “8:37.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry but I just needed to call you,” he sounded a little panicked and you knew that he was probably a little hungover too.

“What’s going on? Should I come over?” you stayed still, standing next to the sofa as you listened intently to Roger on the other line.

“No, no. It’s nothing too serious. I just need to,” Roger paused taking a deep breath before continuing. “I need to apologize. Apologize for how I’ve been acting all week, how I acted yesterday,” his voice shook a little and you heard it.

“Roger, it’s fine,” you quickly interjected.

“No, it’s not. Please just let me do this,” Roger was met with silence from you, taking it as his cue to continue. “I’ve been acting like a complete ass to you for years and I have no right to. I mean, we slept together but it’s not we’re dating. But then, for some reason, I felt so protective over you and I don’t know why. So, when I saw you dancing with John last week something inside me snapped. But like I said, I had no right to pull you away from him. Then last night in the studio I just started thinking about it again and I got so upset, so I drank. And if you hadn’t been there to do my drum backtracks, I’m pretty sure Brian would have murdered me, so thank you for that. I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry and I’m going to do better to move on because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or hurt you anymore. I just want you to be able to see me the same way you did before everything that happened two years ago. I want to go back to normal,” Roger took a deep breath after he finished and you slowly sat down on the couch, sinking into the cushions.

You took a moment to mull over everything that Roger had just said. Was this his subtle way at hinting that he has feelings for you? And if it was then why would he have turned down your proposition to go on a date after you slept together? Why does this all seem so sudden? Was Roger jealous? You finally managed to gather your thoughts well enough to respond and you huffed out a long breath.

“Rog, you still there?”

“Uh huh,” he sounded nervous as he gave a muffled response.

“I thin-” was all you managed to get out before you heard a click from the other line. “Hello? Roger?” you pulled the receiver down to glance at it before resting it back against your ear. “Rog?” you asked one last time before you put the phone down. He hung up on me.

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