Okay, so I really wanted to participate in the Queen Through The Seaons event properly, but as you all know I have been absolutely swamped with work lately. 😭 So I'm afraid I only got as far as a sketch... hopefully one day I'll manage to finish it, but I wanted to share it with you now anyway.
Seeing as Roger and Freddie have lived through all four seasons in Dawn of Aquarius now, I wanted to do just that. 💕
Spring
Roger rolled his shoulders and leaned back, stretching out his legs and lying down in the grass, one arm tucked underneath his head. There wasn't anyone in their immediate vicinity, except for two lovebirds a few yards away, also enjoying the sunshine. They were chatting, and as Roger watched them absent-mindedly, the girl laughed and leaned over to kiss her boyfriend, who wrapped an arm around her and hugged her closer.
Roger turned away and eyed Freddie's back, shoulders hunched over, the contour of his spine visible through his shirt. He reached out, delicately running the tips of his fingers over the small of his back.
Freddie straightened a little.
"It sucks that I can't touch you," Roger said softly.
Freddie shook his head, with a hint of a chuckle, as though in disbelief that Roger would just come out and say such a thing over lunch.
"You are touching me," he pointed out.
"I want to touch you more," Roger complained, sounding a bit like a petulant child, and pulled his hand back, folding it underneath his head instead.
Summer
"You wanna jump together?" Roger suggested, and very nearly grabbed Freddie's hand, hooking their arms together instead at the last moment. "The three of us."
There was a slightly manic twinkle in Brian's eye as he gave him a toothy grin and nodded.
"It's brilliant, you'll love it," Roger told them as they stripped off their shirts and kicked their shoes off. He wasn't entirely sure if he was trying to reassure them or remind himself, because all of a sudden there they were, standing right on the edge of the cliff and his heart was going a hundred miles an hour.
"Has anyone ever died doing this?" Brian decided to inquire at that very moment.
"Shut your mouth," Freddie hissed and Roger burst out laughing.
"Don't think so. Ready?"
"No," Brian chotled nervously.
"Yes," said Freddie simultaneously, staring down at the water. Roger nudged him gently, and caught his eye when he looked up. None of what he wanted to say could be said out loud, but he hoped that Freddie knew, anyway.
"It's easier with a run up," he said instead, and took a couple of steps back, vaguely aware of their friends, watching from the sidelines. Freddie and Brian followed.
"One..." he said, raising his eyebrows at Freddie.
"...Two..." Freddie murmured and took a deep breath, turning to face the cliff edge.
"Three!" shouted Brian, and as one, they broke into a run and leapt off.
Autumn
I would like to see it in person and hear your voice. I know I could have called a hundred times but it's easier to write. Don't you agree? If I call and speak to you I'm afraid I'll miss you too much. And I won't know what to say then, and neither will you. We'll both feel like idiots and I'll spend all night mulling it all over in my head.
So I'll write the things I can't say. Isn't that what letters are for? I know I harp on about it, but I miss you dearly sometimes. At least once a day, I'll find myself thinking something that I simply have to share with you, and it's gone before I have a chance to write it down. Or it seems too banal to put in a letter after a while. I suppose eventually it will get better, this missing you, only I'm not sure that I want it to. I'm not making much sense, am I? I have been listening to all the songs which remind me of you. All those ones we used to listen to the most.
I’ve written too much. You'll have to forgive me...
Winter
"I miss you."
A simple confession, uttered so quietly, almost in defeat. 'I miss you, too,' Freddie wanted to say, but couldn't, because he was afraid that if he tried to speak now it would come out a sob. He pulled his legs up to himself, the fingers of one hand fanning out over his face, brushing away a tear before it could roll down his cheek.
"Not like…" Roger was saying, a telltale quiver in his voice. "Not like that, I don't mean… I just, I miss… you."
Pressing one palm to the door, Freddie swallowed and turned his head to lean his cheek against it, too.
"I'm here," he managed to get out, followed by an involuntary noise somewhere between laughter and sadness. There was a choked-up chuckle and a sniff from the other side, too. It was perfectly ridiculous, really, that here they were, finally speaking honestly with each other. Through a bloody bathroom door. But perhaps that was better. Freddie was afraid of how he might have felt, what he might have felt, had they stood face to face. Had Roger wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight. Freddie wanted him to, wanted to hold him in return, and then again he was afraid. Because it was one thing to forgive, and another to forget. And the wounds sharp words had left were scars on his heart that he was terrified to tear open anew.
