A/N-
Well, I never thought I would only be updating tri-annually, I apologise😂. I literally had this one shot in my drafts for over a year.
*** (You'll probably need to refresh yourselves with Part I, I know I had to!)***

I've definitely forgotten how to write but I hope ye all enjoy anyway!💜

H.G

I kept a careful leash on my expression as I watched Peter wrangle Winnie away with nothing but broken German and a smile. Admittedly, I knew my blank visage would irritate Freddie, whose gaze was rapidly darting across my face in the hopes of finding some crack in the mask, but I wasn't willing to give anything away just yet. Not in front of Prenter at least.

"You know I would never invite him here. We don't speak, I promise you that."

"Yet, he has an invitation." I pointed out, wondering if this unfortunate situation was all I needed to get off the hook with Freddie.

"Yes, but I didn't give it to him!" Freddie nudged Paul, who was still at his side. "There was clearly a mix up with the invitations."

"Not really a mix up." Paul hummed, "I just didn't see the issue, you and Winnie were friends."

"Were." He hissed in reply.

"Well, I thought ye would all be a little more mature about it. All of us have shagged every second person in here, who cares?"

I cast a brief, frigorific, glance towards Paul out of the corner of my eye. It couldn't have lasted more than a millisecond but it was enough for Paul to shrink behind Freddie. I may have taken a great deal of satisfaction in his cowering.

"Paul?" Freddie murmured.

"Yeah, Fred?"

"Fuck off."

Paul didn't protest, he simply scurried away.

"Hayes--"

I waved a dismissive hand, "I don't need it all explained to me again."

Freddie blinked suspiciously, "You believe me?"

"I believe that you aren't daft enough to invite that man here when I am also here."

I am quite aware that my tone could have been a little softer but alcohol made me all the more blunt. It was clear that the entire situation was an accident and we simply didn't need to beat the topic to death. Hopefully my display of unwavering maturity in the face of this truly awful situation would help Freddie get over his petty little grievances with me.

I was just about to suggest we call things even but Freddie was suddenly whisked away in a swarm of male bodies. Blinking, I wasn't certain that Freddie had ever bloody been there in the first place. I raised a hand to rub at my eyes and when my vision cleared, Alex appeared.

"Oh, there you are!"

"I-- yes, here I am." I scrubbed a hand through my lightly damp hair, "I think I have had enough to drink."

"Nonsense!"

"An Irish man who doesn't know when to stop drinking, how original."

"You Brits are the reason we drink."

"Apologies."

"Not accepted." Alex reached forward to pop the button of my collar, "So come along, grab me another drink, and let's get out on the dance floor."

"I'll have another drink," I murmured, my stomach blanching at the suggestion. I had already ingested more than enough alcohol when I was accepted into a fray of drag queens earlier. "I will not be joining you on the dance floor."

"We'll see."

I ended up silently stewing beside Alex as he chattered away to any man that passed his way. My arms were melded around my body like a cage in the hopes that nobody would approach. I'm sure my permanent squint against the flashing lights didn't make me look any more welcoming, but still people tried their luck.

Usually whenever a man wandered up to me, I immediately pawned them off on Alex, who was happy to oblige. It was a decent system. At some stage a drunken Peter Straker had wandered over to me and all but begged me to join him on the dance floor. He had managed to undo another few of my buttons with the same intention as Alex-- they both wanted me to "loosen up". I could not think of anything that would make me more tense than my bare skin connecting with any one of the sweaty strangers in the club so they were truly going about this in the wrong way. I'm not at a fucking pool.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and it took everything in my power to stall the growl that sped along my throat. The latest man to approach was sent scurrying with little effort, I'm sure my irritation was tangible. I was already a little sore from arguing with Freddie for the lion's share of the week, seeing Winnie, and now I was stuck in a venue with pulsating bodies and nauseating club hits. I would have powered through if I had been around Freddie but I had not managed to catch a glimpse of him in what seemed like an age. I wanted to leave but I knew that if I slipped back to the hotel early he would be seething. So I stuck it out.

Maybe I should find him, tell him I truly don't care about the mix up with Winnie.

"Is my lipstick smudged?"

I distractedly cast my gaze toward Alex, "Probably."

My eyes proceeded to bulge out of their narrowed mould as I spotted yet another figure from my messy Munich past. Standing a few metres away, was a pair I truly didn't want to see. It couldn't be though, Freddie would never invite them-- just like he never invited Winnie. Perhaps I was mistaken.

Of course I wasn't, because Patrick and Polder were both waving at me.

I immediately turned my back and robbed Alex's drink. Alcohol was entirely necessary right now. What the hell were they doing here? Freddie still clutched Dorothy close in horror at any mention of them, so he certainly hadn't patched things up with either one. Well, not that I was aware of.

"Hey!" Alex exclaimed as I drained his martini dry. "You may get me another drink."

"Are they still looking?"

"Who?" Alex's eyes lit up with excitement, "Who are we avoiding?"

"We aren't avoiding anyone, I am hiding!"

"Oh. My. God." Alex whispered, "Isn't that your rebound couple—"

"Do not call them my rebound couple!" I hissed. "Never call them that! And whatever you're thinking, stop!"

"I'm not thinking anything," Alex smiled as he waved in Patrick and Polder's direction. "Hello lads!"

"What are you doing!?"

"Being friendly, Mr Sour Arse."

"Yes, well, you have fun being friendly, I need to go find Freddie, because I can't imagine he invited those two on purpose."

Just as I was about to make a break for it, a hand touched my shoulder and I knew that I was momentarily trapped. I didn't have time to smack on any social airs or graces so I'm sure that my expression was less than friendly when I turned around. Patrick and Polder greeted me as if we were best of mates, and I just knew that Freddie's sixth sense for when another man spoke to me was tingling somewhere in this room. I would lose any leverage I gained with the Winnie situation if he saw me willingly converse with Patrick or Polder. Damn.

"Hayes, great to see you!" Patrick, the fair haired Irishman murmured.

I simply nodded.

"This is a great party." Polder, the tall Dutchman smiled.

"Freddie's party— yes. We're back together you know." I said defensively, "Freddie who's party this is."

Alex laughed loudly, "Oh my god, Griff, can we keep them? Look how flustered you are, this is brilliant." He pinched my cheek, "Paddy, Hayes never told me the dirty details, I will love you forever if you spill."

Patrick looked ready to open his mouth, but Polder shot him a glare that mercifully shut him down. "That's great you and Freddie worked things out."

"Is it serious?"

"Of course they're serious." Alex drawled, "Hayes is rather hopeless without him. Like a dying houseplant."

"I'm not hopeless—"

"— Freddie just waters him with a sprinkle of a attention, and he perks right up. Houseplant."

I merely narrowed my eyes at the lazy comparison.

"They're both Virgos though, so it could blow up at any moment." Alex chirped, "So maybe if you wait it out like I am—"

"We're what?"

"You know your star sign, don't act like you don't. Summer has extensively spoken to you on this subject."

"Hm."

"You told her that the people who put any stock in star signs are going to start howling at the moon next."

"Oh," I chuckled, "Yes. I remember that tripe now."

Polder also laughed, which forced me to immediately clamp my lips shut out of spite. "Patrick doesn't believe in any of it either."

"Tripe? So you aren't a hypercritical, pedantic, stubborn, ruminative, control freak?"

"Why don't you tell me what you really think, sweetheart?" I flashed him a bland smile, which he returned. "And Freddie isn't any of those things, yet he's also a Virgo." Excessively stubborn, perhaps. "See, it's all coincidental."

"Oh I just listed the negative traits for you, Freddie gets the positive ones." Alex brushed a hand over his chin, "I'll have Summer ring up regularly to tell you your horoscope."

"See that you do." I deadpanned.

Polder touched his fingertips to my elbow, "How have you been?"

Ugh. "Fine."

A moment passed and in it: Alex rolled his eyes, Patrick arched his brow, and Polder's lips thinned slightly. I simply glanced up from inspecting my nails to meet their expectant gazes.

Ugh. "Oh-- right, ah, and how have you been?"

"Good, I'm good!"

Then Patrick tried to catch my gaze, "I have seen you on the telly whenever I'm home in Dublin."

"Lovely."

"Hayes!" Alex hissed with exasperation at my flat tone.

"What? What else do you want me to say?" I hoped that bickering with Alex would provide the distraction I needed to slowly edge away and get swept up by the crowd.

"You can be so--so--" Alex simply made a noise of exasperation.

"Read more, it may help you complete your sentences in future."

Alex finished his sentence rather colourfully after that.

I turned on my heel, ready to make my great escape only to be caught in the bosom of a rather tall woman. "Delon Jr! We meet again!"

Ugh-- I mean-- oh thank god!

"Poppy!" I exclaimed, "Direct me towards the bar, please."

Poppy Cox (also known as Terry), clasped my wrist and tugged me along after her. I didn't usually tolerate being man handled but I would make an exception in this case. Anything would be better than the situation I was in.

"Did you get a chance to apologise to your man?"

"Not yet." I clung to the bar as if it were a lifebuoy and I was floundering in the ocean, "I haven't seen him."

"What does he look like?"

"That would be telling." I flashed the drag queen a smile, "What would you like?"

"What were we drinking earlier?"

"Macca--margaritas." I winced, "We'll stay on those. Where's the rest of your ensemble?"

"They'll come looking for me sooner or later." Poppy touched my shoulder with one hand and pointed behind me with the other, "Is that him?"

I whirled around to look at a man donned in nothing but a bow tie. Clapping a hand over my poor virgin eyes I turned back on Poppy who was cackling like a mad woman.

"Good bloody lord-- why would you-- fucking hell." I stammered as a margarita was slid my way.

Poppy Cox's lips curled with amusement, "How on Earth did someone like you end up at a Freddie Mercury party?"

I shrugged, still rubbing at my eyes, "We go back."

"Terry!" A voice boomed from behind me, "Did you think you could keep a man like this to yourself?" A hand pressed to my back.

I may crack someone over the jaw before the evening's out.

Poppy rolled her eyes, fake lashes fluttering, "You may not want to man handle Hayes Griffith."

"Apologies." The hand immediately dropped from my back and the man slipped into my line of vision with a sorry smile. "You're the one who pushed Fred into a table?"

This particular man was wearing an obscenely short, leather dress and sported a wild red wig. He spoke with a softened Manchester accent, which may have explained why he recognised my name.

"I didn't push him, he pushed me." I grumbled and took a deep gulp of my drink.

"That's not the way he tells it." He laughed and extended his ring-adorned hand, "Eileen Dover."

After sounding out the name in my head, I refused to give her the satisfaction of an immature chuckle. "Hayes Griffith."

"Oh you're even more prim and proper than you are on television!" She squeezed my hand before I could pull it away.

"I suggest we change that!" Poppy grinned, "Try to loosen him up a little."

I glanced between them with a frown, "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

Poppy simply tapped at my glass, "Drink up, dear."

****

After clumsily locking my cubicle, and gingerly laying down the toilet lid so that I could collapse down onto to it, it dawned on me that I was slightly inebriated. I even hummed along to the music that managed to pulse through to the bathrooms, whilst hoping I could sober myself up just enough to find Freddie.

Head in my hands, I teetered dangerously upon my seat in the bathroom. After a few blurred hours of drinking with a gaggle of drag queens I needed to take a moment to myself to gather my bearings. Only my bearings were scattered absolutely everywhere. What is it about a bathroom that seems to exacerbate the alcohol in your system?

I will find out wherever you are, drinking in another club or driving in your car.

My foot tapped along to the heavy club track, it was both godawful and catchy. It was the type of music I could see myself being crossfaded to on a dance floor, and I suppose that's what the Pet Shop Boys were going for. Their single 'One More Chance' had come across my desk a few weeks ago and I had dismissed it as robotic rubbish, but in my current state I was loving it. Not that I would ever admit it stone cold sober.

Chained, framed, you know what I mean. Push me in a corner and I'll scream! Give me one more, one more chance.

Eventually I made an attempt to stand back up, stumbling against the door as I did so. "Okay old boy, steady on."

I took a steadying breath and slipped out of the cubicle. It was time to find Freddie. I had left him to his own devices for the majority of the night because who needs their reclusive significant other clinging to them when they want to socialise? Well, I assume that's how he felt. Clearly, I couldn't stand to socialise without Freddie by my side... hence the ungodly amount of alcohol I consumed.

"Hayes?"

I had nearly veered right into Peter Freestone as soon as I left the cubicle. "Ah! Peter!"

"Are you alright? Freddie's been looking for you." He swept his gaze over me, his cheeks inexplicably flushing red, "You look uh..."

"Well actually, I'm a little tipsy. So I could do with some water-- or some food would be bloody brilliant."

"Oh, well I was actually about to use the bathroom--"

"Water is essential." I brushed past him, already a little more sprightly now that I was out of the cubicle,  "Can I still find food? It's probably too late."

I came to a halt when I realised that Peter hadn't followed me. With a frown I tossed him a look over my shoulder, "Aren't you coming?"

Peter reluctantly dragged his gaze from the open cubicle, along the row of urinals before letting it rest on me. "Yes." He sighed, "Yes. I'm coming."

I sniffed, "I didn't realise my company was quite so awful Peter."

He joined me, "It's not, I just needed to--never mind, we'll see about finding you some food."

"And water?" I looked up at him.

"Yes, Hayes."

Once again, his cheeks flushed red for no reason whatsoever, "Are you wearing rouge?"

"No," He immediately looked away and paved a way through the crowd for us.

At this point things were rather messy in the club. People were falling about the place, the dancing was getting rowdy, and there was far, far too much skin on display. Luckily, the flashing lights across the dance floor made it more difficult than usual for me to see clearly.

However, I was somehow always able to spot Freddie when I put my mind to it.

"Ah there he is!" I clapped Peter on the shoulder, "I'll be over there with Freddie, thanks so much, Peter."

"Oh, okay do I still have to get--"

"Yes, even tap water will do, you're the best!"

Freddie had discarded his military jacket at some point, revealing a bare torso save for his suspenders. His hair had been freed from the gel that previously tamed it, now curling ever so slightly in the muggy air. The liner that bordered his eyes was a little smudged, making his eyes all the more devastating.

"Freddie!" I exclaimed with a grin, "Who knew you would be so difficult to locate at your own party?"

I prepared myself to wrap my arms around him, regardless of all the prying eyes but a hand was quickly pressed to my chest as if to keep me at bay.

"What?" I frowned.

"Where is your shirt?"

I glanced down to see that his gloved fingertips were splayed across my bare skin. When the fuck-- how did that happen? "I don't know exactly."

"Did you take it off?"

"I must have?" I tossed a dismissive hand in the air, "Oh who cares? You aren't wearing one either, neither are half the people in here. Aren't you happy I'm blending in?"

Freddie's eyes appeared to simmer, with what, I didn't really know. "I'm sorry," he removed his hand, "I am speaking to Hayes Griffith aren't I?"

"You didn't give me a middle name."

Freddie laughed softly at my little drunken sulk before he cast his gaze around our immediate vicinity. He tugged me close, letting his hand skim over my back.

"Sorry." He smiled against my cheek before placing a kiss there, "It's just that the Hayes I know has a hissy fit whenever someone foregoes a shirt in a public place."

I couldn't argue with that, and I could usually argue anything. Instead, I flashed him a small smile as his fingertips lazily scratched along my spine. I knew that my shirt likely fell victim to Freddie's overly handsy friends, but I couldn't exactly tell him that, so I kept my mouth shut for now. People continued to waltz up to Freddie and attempt to whisk him away or chatter his ear off, but he appeared to have dropped anchor for now. I was unable to stray very far without being tugged back to his side, not that I minded. If anyone thought our closeness strange, they didn't comment on it. Although, a few knowing glances were certainly tossed about.

"Hayes, have I introduced you to the talented Jo Dare?"

A woman with loud hair and piercing eyes appeared in front of me. Despite of the ridiculous face paint slapped across her face in an attempt to make her look like a cat, she was a rather striking lady.

Jo offered me a wicked smile, "I have heard all about you!" Her voice was not at all unlike mine when I woke up in the mornings, or perhaps more accurately it sounded like Bonnie Taylor's if she were to smoke a pack of cigarettes by the hour.

"I assume none of it was good." I readied myself to shake her hand.

Jo's American accent should have prepared me for the hug that came next but in my drunken stupor I was caught off guard. I cringed ever so slightly, now hyper aware of my lack of shirt but returned the hug as enthusiastically as possible because it appeared as though the lady was Freddie's friend. Thankfully, I had regressed from being a clumsy drunk to a steadier tipsy, because the force of her embrace didn't knock me too far off kilter.

"Not one bit of it!"

"You're a singer I take it."

"Sure am, hasn't Freddie told you about our little project?"

From the corner of my eye, I spotted Richard Young taking my photograph. I attempted to swing away so that all he got was my back, but I think I was too late. Where the fuck is my shirt? Brian May appeared a moment later, and I found that my eyes were fixated on the fishnet stockings he wore for the majority of the conversation.

"Sorry I took so long Hayes!" Peter appeared at my side, "The bartender was being pissy about parting with a bottle of water-- told me he had only glass and--"

"You're a saint," I chuckled and plucked the bottle from his hands.

"Yes, well, just don't drop it, it's glass and--"

"Oh, well I was planning on smashing it beneath my foot, I won't now."

Freddie poked my rib without tearing his attention from his current conversation. I rubbed the spot, grumbling a thank you to Peter between deep gulps of life-giving water.

"They didn't have any food left, and it's not one of those clubs that has snacks behind the bar-- so I went across to the Teddy Bar and all they had was peanuts... I know you aren't mad on them."

I was about to open my mouth to say just that before it dawned on me that the poor man had spent the past half an hour serving my drunken whims. So I thanked him profusely and put up with Freddie calling me a Prima Dona once I gingerly began eating the pub snack when Peter left.

"I thought everyone had to wear drag!?" Brian turned his attention to me.

I shrugged primly.

"How come he got away with it?" He demanded in good humour.

Freddie laughed, eyes crinkling, "Have you ever tried to convince him of something he doesn't want to do?"

This of course opened the door for questioning about my apparently 'difficult' character. Any musician, or any fellow Brit who recognised me seemed incomprehensibly interested in what I was really like. Emboldened by alcohol and a crowd, they had no trouble attempting to probe about. The instant they realised I wasn't about to play ball, they passed it along to Freddie who seemed happy to have a kick.

"So the waiter dropped our food to the table." Freddie explained, "They gave him turbot when he ordered the sea bass."

"And he kicked up a stink?"

"My god no, he's not an ogre."

"Cheers." I sniffed.

Freddie lips twitched upward, "No, he seemed happy to eat it. He made a little comment about the wine no longer being the right pairing, but he soldiered on."

"I really don't see why you tell everyone this story--"

"I made an attempt to call the waiter back, to tell him they made a mistake but Hayes stopped me, and you'll never guess what he said." Before anyone could attempt to make that guess, he ploughed on. "Hayes said to leave it, he said that a lot of effort had likely gone into the dish and he wasn't about to complain about it."

"Of course I couldn't help myself, I lost my rag and asked him does he know how much fucking effort goes into an album, and he certainly has no problem complaining about those!" He swatted my arm, "So there you have it, dearies, he's a man of very loose morals."

"It's completely different..." I tried to protest with an innocent smile.

With Freddie's attempt to humanise me, people no longer seemed to think of me as a caricature villain and began lobbing all sorts of questions my way.

"What's Madonna like?"

"Cyndi Lauper if she had less range..." I cleared my throat, quickly realising that they likely meant what she was like as a person rather than as a singer. I was surrounded on all fronts by gay men, there was no way I could speak ill of Madonna if I wanted to leave here unscathed.

"She's... exactly how you would imagine her to be."

"I knew it!" One man exclaimed, and those around him eagerly nodded their agreement.

For a brief moment, I was finding it all rather bearable. I was sobering, I was with Freddie, and the people speaking to me weren't completely awful. Naturally, when I found myself getting comfortable, my luck changed.

"Ah, Hayes," Patrick's voice crawled up my spine, "There ya are!"

Oh. Fuck. Why on Earth would he approach me so casually? Address me so informally? Was it him or Polder that Freddie got into a pub brawl with? He had attempted to dance up to me when I was surrounded by my ladies earlier, but I hadn't given him the time of day. Why come back for more?

"Hm?" I replied but kept my gaze firmly set on Freddie.

The man of the hour didn't look particularly impressed.

"Here I am, with Freddie," I stammered,"Because where else would I be, at his y'know party?"

I was certain that I heard Alex's cackle somewhere in the distance.

Fortunately, people got caught up in their own conversations and didn't notice how Freddie raked Patrick over the coals with his gaze. A glare to be envied really.

"Oh, Fred, how are you keeping?" Patrick flashed him a grin, "Happy birthday! It was good of you to invite Polder and I."

Freddie's brow knitted into a deep frown, "I didn't."

"Oh, well, another mix up!" I hummed, "Much like the mix up with Winnie! So now we're all square!"

His eye twitched.

"It's not like I bloody invited them!" I huffed defensively.

"Them. The two of them."

"Yes, there were two of them--"

Freddie waved a erratic hand my way, "I don't need all the fucking details--"

"I-- what!?"

"Right," Patrick glanced between us, "Okay, so it's not water under the bridge then? I suppose I'll grab Polder and go."

"Yes, do that." Freddie gritted out.

"Here, your shirt." Patrick pushed the balled up piece of fabric against my stomach.

I rapidly shrugged on my shirt and prayed to whoever then hell would listen that Freddie would not jump to any ridiculous conclusions. My fingers were unsteady as I reached for the buttons only to find that hardly any of them were there. It was embarrassing enough to have been walking around without a shirt for god knows how long, but now I looked as though I was keeping it open on purpose.

"Well, what a wild night!" I chirped, "There'll be hell to pay for Prenter, but let's not dwell on that now."

Freddie's dark eyes flickered about my form, "Why are the buttons ripped?"

"Your friends--"

"And why did Patrick have your shirt?"

"I don't know." I replied, the answer not satisfactory to myself or Freddie. All I knew was that I certainly didn't misbehave, something Freddie knew well, even if he was looking at me rather suspiciously.

"And where was Polder in all of this?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled, wondering what direction to take this. Of course I was well within my rights to kick up a fuss about Winnie but that would be childish. And as much as I secretly enjoyed his small bouts of jealousy, it was time for a de-escalation.

"How about we both agree that neither of us are daft enough to willingly interact with any of the Munich bunch and leave it at that?"

"Agreed." He replied immediately, happy for me to have been the one to put it all behind us. He knew I wouldn't go back to the topic of Winnie and was content to let the embers of his jealousy die out. Win-win.

"I just don't enjoy seeing them." Freddie pulled me to his side, his lips brushing against my ear, "You know, my knee still gives me bother."

"Well, that's normal at your age."

"Bitch." Freddie playfully nipped at me, "You don't get any more of those."

"We'll see." I shrugged away from him with a laugh, "Now, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Oh I lost track of that a long time ago," he murmured, "Maybe four."

"Ante meridiem?"

"You know full well what happens when you speak so filthily to me--"

"Mr Delon, I thought you may have passed out in the loos." Poppy appeared with Eileen in tow. "Ah Freddie, so good to see you! Happy birthday!"

Freddie looked irritated for a brief moment as he removed himself from my personal space before that showman smile flashed across his face, "Who let you two slags in here?"

Eileen laughed, "It's been too long."

"Oh good, you found your shirt." Poppy patted a firm hand on my bare stomach, "I gave it to that dishy Irish lad who seemed to know you."

Brilliant.

"The blonde?" Freddie turned his head, watching Poppy's wandering hand with a confused squint. "And who's Delon?"

"Ms Cox thinks he looks like that actor from Purple Noon, I don't see it at all." Eileen explained with a laugh.

"Oh I don't know," Poppy chuckled dismissively, "He's pretty and has blue eyes, close enough."

I rubbed at the back of my neck, unable to come up with any sort of satisfactory reply.

Freddie no longer attempted to hide behind his welcoming smiles, "So back to the Irish man, blonde?"

"Blonde." Eileen nodded, lips curling with amusement, "Fawning over Mr Griffith here like a sap."

Fabulous.

"Anyways, we were just swinging around to say goodbye. We had a wonderful evening! We'll simply all have to do something soon back in London. Hayes, I'll certainly be looking you up when I get back."

The two drag queens said their farewells to Freddie, who was slowly boiling over. Eileen gave my stomach an unnecessary pat goodbye, and Poppy placed an exaggerated kiss on my cheek. Her lipstick looked slightly smudged after, so I could only bloody assume that she'd left a mark.

"Well, someone's been busy this evening, haven't they, dear? New friends, old friends..." Freddie reached out to inspect my collar, "Seems she got you there too."

I simply rolled my eyes. "Not my fault."

He tugged my wrist and attempted to guide us towards the outskirts of the dance floor so that we weren't quite so visible. Though Freddie's patterned trousers and handsome face were extremely hard to miss.

"Freddie, you can't seriously be cross with me!" I twisted my hand through my hair in frustration, "Not one of your friends know how to keep their hands to themselves! I've been bloody ducking and diving all night!"

"And where have you been all night?"

"Here!"

"Yes I know, here." He said gruffly, "You were gone for hours and you come back with a ripped shirt and a gaggle of fans, one of them being that cocky prick, Patrick."

Fucking hell, he's just chomping at the bit for a reason to actually fight with me. He's been impatiently waiting for our Cold War to escalate all week, and he's using the stupid shit that happened here tonight to do so.

"I didn't do anything, I know it, you know it, you're just itching for an argument."

"Well, you went behind my back with the payments for Garden Lodge." He said rather immaturely. "Who knows what else you get up to?"

There we go. I pinched my nostrils, "Yes, once the money was exchanged I bent the clerk over the counter, I'm caught."

"Hilarious, I'm talking about tonight--"

"Mhm, and tonight, in front of all your friends, and a handful of cameras, I decided fuck it, let's throw my career, and the man I love, away!" I quirked him a sardonic smile, "So yes, in front of all those witnesses, I grabbed Patrick and just--"

"No need to be such a cheeky fuck, is there?"

Freddie's lips looked as though they wanted to crack into a smile but he concealed defeat by giving me a quick but firm kiss. He knew he was wrong, he bloody knew it.

I felt my spine pinch, "Admit you are overreacting."

He shrugged, all anger dissipated in the gesture, "I'm reacting to you ignoring me all night."

"Well, I wasn't ignoring you, maybe avoiding--slightly, there's a difference."

"Elaborate?"

Of course I decided to purposely misunderstand him.

"I really thought you'd know this already but alright. To ignore is to disregard or to refuse to acknowledge intentionally, whereas to avoid is to--"

"Cheeky fuck." He repeated before he kissed me.

Freddie's hand fell to the small of my back before urgently dragging me against him. My body jolted the instant his bare skin pressed against mine and all rational thought seemed to spill from my mind. Though... one alarm bell blared. I was not ending up in that bloody music video, or in a tabloid via Richard Young.

"Someone will-- we can't, Freddie, the cameras--"

"I know." An almost pained sound escaped him, "Just a little. Let me--"

My back hit the wall and his body crowded mine. He threaded his skilled fingertips through my hair, pulling me further into his intense kisses. It was far too soon when he pulled himself away but  it needed to happen. He let his forehead drop against mine. We shared a breath.

"You were right." Freddie conceded, "I overreacted."

I crushed my lips to his once again, smiling smugly, "What's that?"

Freddie shook his head with a small chuckle before taking my wrist in his hand once again. "Let's get away from the wagging tongues and prying eyes."

"But it's your party--"

"They got their fucking slice of cake, what more do they want from me?"

A loud laughed escaped me at that, that I couldn't even attempt to mask because Freddie had a vice like grip on my hand. We blindly fumbled along the walls, opening the first door that wasn't locked. He only broke away from me long enough to lock said door which had been carelessly left open. I mean really, anyone could waltz in, he had exclaimed with horror. Freddie eventually found a source of light, but the dull dangling bulb wasn't much help. From the looks of things we were in some sort of storage closet, and with my slightly fried eyes, I ended up whacking my knee off of a crate of bottled cider on the way towards the back.

Freddie's hands came down on a shelf behind me, caging me in. "You could apologise too, you know."

"Your Machiavellian tactics won't work on me."

"Again with your filthy words." He laughed softly as his nose skimmed down my neck.

Once again, my spine pinched with anticipation. Not being able to see much in the dull lighting only heightened the sensation of his lips greedily scraping against my skin. I let my hands fall to his hair as his kisses trailed down to my chest. I snagged my fingers through the softly curling  locks, dragging him upward once again so that I could feel his lips on mine.

He pressed his body flush to me, his hips digging against my own. Freddie's tongue darted across the seam of my lips, seeking access before driving it in with a wicked caress. He moaned softly, the sound never failing to draw out one of my own. One hand roughly pressed against my abdomen, whilst the other possessively clamped down along my jaw. I urgently shrugged his suspenders down his shoulders, before scratching my fingertips down between his shoulder blades.

"You really shouldn't have igno--avoided me all night." Freddie brought his lips to my ear.

"I didn't think, ah," I shivered at the breath that caressed me, "that you'd appreciate me being stuck to you all night."

"For such a genius," I felt his smile against my cheek as he trailed his face downward, "You can be so mind bogglingly stupid sometimes."

Before I could even attempt to pick through my scrambled mind to find a witty reply, Freddie had pressed his thumb to my bottom lip. He arched a brow expectantly and waggled his fingers. I rolled my eyes, but still helped to remove his gloves with my teeth. It was a battle of lips and tongues from there on in, each of us determined to come out on top. I slipped my hand between us, gripping him hard. Freddie sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, letting his face fall against my neck. I made an eager attempt to peel those unnecessarily tight trousers-- if you can call them trousers-- down, but Freddie grabbed my wrist. His eyes were feverish and dark as they swept across my face.

"No." His soft voice was like gravel, "Turn around."

Freddie pulled away just enough to allow me to do so. For a few brief seconds all I could hear was the uneven rhythm of our breaths intermingling with the muffled disco beats on the other side of the door. Then his hands were on me once again, dragging my already torn shirt off of my shoulders. I immediately arched back into his touch. His kisses across my neck and shoulders were rough and blistering hot. I tensed as his hands reached around to fumble with my belt. His mouth hit a particularly sensitive spot at the base of my neck which had me roughly exhaling his name.

"Fuck." He breathed into my skin, "Fuck."

He yanked me backward to align me with his hips. A pathetic sound escaped me when he pressed his length hard against me. My knees almost gave out when he began to gently worked a slicked finger inside of me. My head dropped against the wall and my fingers clenched around the rather sturdy shelf for dear life. Freddie's breaths were rough, but his preparing touches were gentle, as were his encouraging murmurs.

His lips clamped down on my shoulder when he eventually pushed himself in. He moaned my name filthily as he began to slowly drag himself in and out. I could scarcely breathe, could scarcely keep my body steady as his hips rolled at a devastating pace.

"Come here," Freddie gently swept his fingers through my hair, pulling me back towards him. I angled my chin back recapturing his soft lips. His chest was firm behind me, keeping me steady as he relentlessly rocked into me. His tongue swept wickedly along my own and I arched further into him, but it was impossible to be any closer than I was at that moment. Though I always wanted to try.

"See if you hadn't," Freddie briefly pulled away for air, "hm, if you hadn't avoided me all night..." he seemed to have lost his train of thought as his fingers snaked downward. "I could have fucked you several times over already."

Naturally, I was able to find some sort of response to that bloody smug statement amidst my hazy thoughts. Even if it took a few jagged breathes in between to spill from my lips. "At your tender age, I didn't think you'd be up for it."

Of course, Freddie took that as a challenge. And I suppose he had warned me earlier that I had used up all my age-related quips. He picked up the pace, his hips snapping against me. His kisses had turned from soft to punishing as if to keep me quiet. Not that I could form so much as a coherent breath or sentence when his hand began to pump up and down along where I ached for him most. Freddie was everywhere, and it didn't take very long for me to come undone.

Once again, he gathered me to his chest, murmuring a juxtaposing mix of encouragements and curses against my ear. He followed soon after, his fingers embedded in my biceps hard enough to leave a mark.

I recovered first, and turned around to kiss him, slow and steady. Then, in a series of lethargic movements, we attempted to make ourselves as presentable as possible, but were unable to bring ourselves to leave that shitty little room right away.

My shirt was already thoroughly ruined so I laid it on the floor before he could sit down. He propped himself up against the wall, and held his hand out so that I would join him. Freddie stretched out his lanky legs, and had me settle between them. I stretched out, letting my back rest against his chest once again. He rested his chin on my head, squeezing me tight.

"I am... sorry you know." I let my eyes fall shut, still trying to come back down from his high, "For the whole Garden Lodge business."

Freddie idly traced his fingertips against my abdomen, "So my Machiavellian tactics did work on you?"

"Very effective." I laughed breathily, "But, no, I er, realised the error of my ways."

"You?"

"Piss off." I grumbled, "I'm serious, I'm sorry."

"Which are you, darling, serious or sorry?"

"You're impossible."

"As if you wouldn't say the exact same thing!" Freddie's laugh rumbled beneath me, "Go on."

"I don't want you to think of me as someone who scrounges off of you." I toyed with his free hand, "So I went overboard in the opposite direction, I should've talked to you about it, I'm sorry."

"Hayes Mabel Griffith." Freddie's chest rose and fell with a sigh, "You're rich as Croesus, in what fucking world would I think you're going to leech off me?"

"Well, I'm not that--"

"And tonight, you avoided me because you got it in your head that I would think you're too clingy? In reality, I was going out of my mind because I actually thought you were annoyed with me over Winnie."

"I'm sorry--"

"Hayes, I say this with love, but you are hopeless at reading minds, so stop. You always assume the worst."

I shifted about uncomfortably, "I just don't want it to get all fucked up again I suppose." I sat up and rubbed at my fatigued eyes.

"There's far too many thoughts going on in that pretty little head of yours." Freddie's hand gently ran up and down my spine.

"I'm aware." I grumbled, "Anyways, I'm sorry, you're sorry, we'll talk properly another time. I don't want to be a drag on your birthday."

Freddie simply considered me for a moment, and I turned slightly, allowing myself to get lost in the expanse of his eyes. I no longer minded when it appeared as though he could gaze right through me.

"What?" I eventually asked.

"Your birthday isn't far off."

"I'm aware."

"Hm. Anything you'd like?"

"Not in particular." I stood up, brushing the creases out of my trousers.

"That was your opportunity to say something romantic."

I held my hand out to him, "Ah."

"Yes." Freddie laughed as I helped him up, "Do you want to try again, dear?"

"I have everything I could possibly need?"

He nudged me, smiling fondly. "You didn't have to be quite so sarcastic."

"Well I meant it."

"I know, I know." Freddie took my hand in his, "But seriously, you're a difficult man to buy for, and I'm an expert on gift giving." He absently twisted the ring on my pinkie, "Jewellery?"

I brushed my thumb against the inside of his wrist, "If you, or one of your friends dares to get me pearls so that you can make your silly little Grace Kelly jokes--"

"That's not what I meant, princess."

I went to pull my hand away, "Piss off."

He tightened his grip, "I promise that I wasn't talking about pearls." Freddie flashed me a cheeky smile, but his touch appeared apprehensive for a moment as he continued to toy with my ring. His dark brow furrowed with contemplation.

"Then I'm not opposed, just nothing..." I waved my free hand, "gaudy."

"Perish the thought." He shook his head with an amused grin, before placing a small kiss to my hand and letting it drop. "Although it pains me, my darling, I'll keep it simple."

"I doubt it." I hummed, following him towards the door.

"You'll see." Freddie reached out to tame my hair, "I'm ready to get the fuck out of here. Are you ready to escape and continue the celebrations back at the hotel?"

"Freddie." I placed a hand to my chest, feigning a swoon as though he had bloody proposed, "I thought you'd never ask.

----

A/N-

Well. There ye go! Hope you all enjoyed, and thanks to all of you who still tune in for some Hayes and Freddie content! I appreciate it💜 And thank you for over 40k reads!