„You keep making the fucking same mistake over n over again!“ „It’s because you always mess up, which then makes me mess up!” „Bullshit! I play exactly what I’m supposed to!” Roger jumped up from behind his drum kit, sticks in hand, looking furious. He pointed his drumsticks at Brian, face red and angry. “You are the one messing up, and if you mess up one more fucking time I’ll just play it my fucking self.” Brian rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded a lot like “I’d love to see you try blondie.”
Roger flung his drumsticks to the side, which landed somewhere behind his kit with a loud clatter, and left the room, seemingly forcing himself to leave before he punched someone or something. The door banged shut loudly, leaving John, Freddie and Brian to stand in sudden silence for a moment, looking at each other. John sighed and put his bass down on its stand, pausing to run a hand through his short hair.
“Well, let’s take a break then! Anyone want some tea?” Freddie announced, clapping his hands together, not seeming very bothered by the argument that had been going on. Brian put his guitar down and walked towards the door, seemingly wanting to go after Roger and settle the argument.
“Don’t, I’ll go after him.” John said softly, putting his hand on Brian’s shoulder. He knew John was the most diplomatic out of all of them, and less likely to piss Roger off even more. So, Brian nodded and sighed, letting him go after their drummer. John found him just outside the studio, desperately sucking on a cigarette, looking disgruntled. “Roger.” The bassist spoke quietly but firmly, making the older man turn around. “What?” He sounded genuinely irritated, but his expression softened when he realized it was John who had come to get him. “Come with me Rog.”
John looked at him sternly, making Roger shiver ever so slightly. He gave a curt nod, and dropped his almost finished cigarette to the ground, quickly grinding it out with his heel. John turned around and walked back into the building, not looking back even once. He knew Roger was following him, he always did. He turned left, away from where the others would be sitting and drinking tea, to a room he knew had a working lock on it and wouldn’t be occupied by anyone. John opened the door, letting Roger inside, before softly shutting the door and locking it behind them.
Within seconds, the younger man had Roger pressed against the wall, growling into his ear. “Trousers. Take them off, now.” A shiver ran down the blonde’s spine, nodding shakily. John pulled back a little to give him just enough space to undress, watching hungrily as the other man’s fingers shakily tugged the button on his trousers open. He quickly wiggled out of them, which was a bit of a challenge seeing that they looked almost spray-painted to his legs, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. John made a low, appreciative noise as he realized the older man hadn’t bothered with putting on underwear that day.
“Brace yourself against the wall Rog.” Roger nodded softly, putting both hands against the wall, legs spread slightly. He knew what was coming, and he really was not sure if he was dreading or anticipating it. “Good boy.” The praise made Roger smile and his cheeks heat up ever so slightly. “You know why you are getting punished?” Roger nodded, mumbling something. John let his open palm smack against the blonde’s ass, not too hard but enough to produce a satisfying smack. “Speak up Rog.” “Yes sir, I’m sorry. I’m…I’m getting punished because…because I was being a dick and picking arguments with Bri…”
“Very good Rog. We’ll start out with twenty. Count for me, if you mess up I will start over. ” John kept the first few smacks light, just enough to sting a little, before moving on to much harder smacks that made his own palm ache. Roger felt himself slipping away with every slap, the stinging pain ebbing away, being replaced with only pleasure and the desire for more. His voice trembled as he counted, his ass and face burning red hot. “What was that Roger?” John asked, having slapped him and not gotten a response. “T…Twelve, sir.” “Good. I’ll give you two more because you forgot to count, I won’t be so forgiving next time.” “Yes sir. Thank you sir.” Roger was already trembling, his ass was on fire, and his thighs were burning with the effort to keep himself up just how John wanted him to. He wanted to be good for John more than anything else, but he already knew that he won’t be able to sit properly later. He groaned, making John stop. “Do you have anything to say Rog?” He threaded his hair into Roger’s soft hair, pulling at it, forcing his head back. “No sir. I’m sorry sir.” John hummed in approval, let go of his hair and continued, landing two sharp slaps in very quick successions over the tops of Roger’s thighs, making him moan out loud. Two more right on his ass, then several over the spots that were already burning hot. Roger had to concentrate hard, almost losing count several times.
“Twenty-two.” He breathed, barely more than a whisper. John immediately ran his warm hands over Roger’s heated bum, then leaned forward to press a surprisingly sweet kiss to the older man’s lips. “Well done Roger, you were so good for me. Now, when we go back out there, will you be a good boy and apologize to Brian?” Roger hesitated for a moment, pouting.
“If you do, I might reward you later.” He winked at Roger, whose face immediately lit up. “Yes please sir. I’ll apologize, promise.” “Good. Now get dressed, we have an album to record! And no touching yourself!” He smiled, pressing another kiss to the blonde’s lips, before leaving the room to rejoin the others, leaving Roger half-naked, with a burning ass and a very hard cock.