The Rice Lofts, Houston, Texas, 11th December 1977

"Are you going to take long, darling? I' want the bloody lights out." Freddie clambered under the covers of the bed.

"One minute," Monica called from the en suite bathroom, catching the remaining cleanser residue onto a cotton ball and putting it into the bin below the sink.

He sighed sadly, wishing that he was allowed to bring his Indian spice box of treasures with him in his suitcase. But he knew that Kashmira's baby tooth, the dried out starfish and Monica's lock of hair was enough to get him quarantined on their stop in Toronto...

But that didn't necessarily matter now. Monica was with him now, in the flesh for him to hold and to love.

She splashed her face in cold water quickly before drying it in front of the mirror, then emerged into the bedroom as Freddie was trying to get settled between the sheets, feeling stiff from frolicking on stage.

She looked across the room to the glass door onto the balcony, rushing to look at the Houston skyline with the towering, twinkling buildings.

Her native Belfast could fit into the city a dozen times, only here was more drab and had a derelict feeling to it, even though the Texas winter was warmer and the centre at night was thriving with traffic and pedestrians. At least she'd have somewhere to do her Christmas present shopping in the morning before they left for Vegas .

"And to think Belfast city centre has a curfew right about now" she murmured, staring down to the ground.

"Did you say something?" He disturbed her surveillance.

She stepped back from the glass, "I'm just thinking about how everyone is out and about below, but back home in Northern Ireland we weren't allowed out after dark because it wasn't safe on the streets."

"Mmph... I see" he grunted, lifting the duvet for her to climb back in, and she made her way back over to the bed.

She knew none of the this impressed him as much as much as it did her, seeing as it was her first time in the States and on the road. He was in what was presently the world's greatest rock band, and it was part of his job and lifestyle.

"...I still remember the day you asked me to go on the News of the World tour with you... to take me to all these places" she spoke as she settled down, feeling his arms locking around her from behind.

He smiled, "was that the day Mary made us do a runaround in my new Royce?"

She giggled quietly, "Yeah, and we landed in the library. And when she had all those travel books in her arms... I really did think you were going to take her..." she trailed off.

Over six months on and the two women still felt very much pressured by one another. Monica knew that although Mary was just a business associate to Freddie nowadays, she still knew him in some ways better than she did. And Mary knew that Monica was slowly taking her place as a friend and a lover, hence her coldness towards her.

"Are you alright?" Freddie asked, sensing the sadness and hesitancy in her voice.

"Why not her instead of me?"

"That's what you asked the night we met at the club." He kissed the back of her neck tenderly, trying to divert the conversation.

She smiled, running her hand up and down his arm wrapped around her neck, "I guess Mary has a sort of... an unusual, mousy allure."

"Oh darling, why are you beginning to compare yourself? You have allure too," he spoke into her shoulder. "But in a more innocent, vixen like way."

She smiled, and lifted her head from her pillow, "Innocent and vixen like? How do those things work together?"

He smiled and kneeled beside her, rolling her onto her back, "Now, let me see... you have the softest chocolate waves," he ran a hand through her hair falling on her pillow as she started to blush. "The twinkliest baby blue eyes and the most snub little nose," she giggled as he leaned down to kiss it, and then he kissed her mouth, "Lips like a rose petal... the most charming smile, and an elegant neck like a swan-"

"Freddie?! Don't go any further!" She let out a squeal of laughter as he goofily nuzzled the crook of her neck, and she escaped from underneath him so that she could fix the blankets.

"Hurry up, the bed's getting cold again... you're breaking your curfew!" He whined jokingly, laying on his side.

"Hey! I went to London to get away from curfews!" she clambered in the dark as she tucked the duvet around him.

Just as she was walking around to fix the next corner he grabbed her wrist, chuckling with a toothy smile as he yanked her back onto the mattress.

"I was fixing it for you!" She yelped as she was engulfed once again.

He whisked her back into his hold, "You're perfect.... I was completely enamoured the second I laid eyes on you" he whispered.

"Stop!" She turned her head away bashfully.

He giggled, "Never!"

"You're hopeless" She huffed, rolling back onto her side. It wasn't long after until she felt his arms lock around her again.

"I'm sorry I teased you, dearie" he whispered again.

"...I forgive you, just this once." She responded hesitantly, then reached over to switch the lamp off.

As she laid curled up on her side in the dark, she felt his fingers lingering up and down her arm, tracing up and down the cotton of her pyjamas, then along her waist, her hipbone...

She heard his breaths in her ear heaven as she felt his large hand engulf her buttcheek.

"You have the most perfect little arse" he growled, and she could feel him beginning to grind himself against her.

"Not now... not when I'm tired..." she thought with dread, and she could feel something throbbing pressed against her bottom.

He pushed her pyjama pants down low enough, then his boxers, and she turned rigid, eyes wide as she rested her head against the pillow.

"Mmmmm... a perfect little arse..." he repeated, this time rubbing himself against her.

"Okay, you have to admit that feels nice..." Monica told herself, rolling on her back obediently for him otherwise he would keep going until he got what he wanted.

"That's much better" he purred, his figure looming above her in the dark.

He pulled her bottoms off and kicked his boxers to the side, and she pulled his head down and kissed him as he situated himself in between her legs.

"You wouldn't let me talk about the rest of you" He murmured, rubbing her bare, goosebumped thighs.

She slipped her arms around him, "spare me the embarrassment"

"Why not?" He wore a smirk. "Your cheeks grow nice and rosy"

Her mouth curved into a silly simpering smile, "Sounds like you missed something from the neck up"

"I certainly did..." he kissed her jaw, and she swore that she could hear footsteps outside the door.

Nonetheless, she didn't have enough time to worry as she gasped the moment she felt Freddie enter her.

"Fuck, you feel so good..." he hissed into her ear.

She buried her head into his shoulder as he started to thrust, "Oh Freddie..."

He was still sore and sweaty from the concert so he didn't pace himself too fast, but he went forcefully to the point where their synchronised moans grew louder, drowning out the outside world.

Then all of a sudden, with a dramatic swing of the bedroom door and the room filling with light from the click of the wall switch, Roger burst in without knocking.

"Pack it up, lovebirds! We're going to the lobby for a late night drink!"

"ROGER! FUCK OFF!" Freddie's hands fumbled for the duvet which had by now slipped down his naked body.

Monica would've moved, but Freddie's weight on top of her wasn't letting her. So all she could do was hide her face in his neck and hope for Roger to obey her lover's orders.

"Awww, you're fucking her when she's half clothed, Fred?" The drummer stuck his head through the crack of the door with a smirk. "That's not very titilating, is it Monica?"

"GET OUT!" Freddie roared, and Monica, who was inches from his fuming red face, gasped in terror as he forcefully snatched a pillow from underneath her head and hurled it at the door.

"Leave them alone, Jack Nicholson!" Brian, passing by on the other side of the door, yanked the drummer away by his jacket collar and strolled down the corridor.

Roger scoffed and slammed the bedroom door shut, "Thanks a lot, my neck is red now!" then followed the guitarist into the living space.

"Those walls are paper thin." John shook his head as he took another spoonful of his snack of muesli and yoghurt from his bowl.

As their muffled voices on the other side disappeared, Monica threw her head back in embarrassment, cheeks flushed. 

As for Freddie, he simply rested against her chest in his pissed off state, catching his breath.

She looked down, sensing the frustration in his glare, and cautiously asked, "What should we do now?"

He propped himself back up and kneeled above her once again, "let me looked at you..."

She looked back quizzical, "you're not mad..."

"No, dearie," he switched the light off on the wall, then slipped his hand down his body. "If anything.... I'm still hard."

She pulled his hands back onto her torso, biting her lip, "Should we finish what we started?"

He grinned down at her playfully as his hands rubbed up and down her body, the light out the window spilling onto the contours of his face. He didn't need to comment, she knew what he was thinking.