The energy, the searing lights that blared down onto the stage, the deafening roar of the crowd in front of them, and the feeling of pure exhilaration that filled all four of them as the final chord of the pre-recorded song rang through the stadium while the four of them bid farewell to their fans, Freddie's voice overshadowing the rest of theirs as they left the stage for the last time of that tour. A wave of relief crashed over him knowing that they'd be able to go back to their flat back in England and get to relax for some time before moving on to their next album. After being busy with A Day at the Races for the past year, a year being the bare minimum, he wasn't too keen on jumping head first into another album recording session any time soon. They'd take some time off, spend some time with friends back home, and just do their own thing, whether it be as a group, or when they parted their ways.

"That was absolutely magnificent Bri!" Roger told their guitarist, quickly wrapping his arms around his torso as they headed for the back room. His body fell limp as he laid back on the spare chair in the back room while Roger and Brian took the couch to themselves. John looked over at the pair and, as usual, Roger was laid out across the couch, his upper body on top of Brian's lap and looking up at the older boy while the talked quietly. They didn't even need to speak any more, the two of them just radiated love and happiness whenever they were next to each other. The completely trusting and safe look in Roger's eyes and that playful light in Brian's hazel gaze always brought the usual heartwrenching, longing feeling that twisted his stomach into knots. The feeling would always carry this desire to say something, anything to help him out. But what was there to say that would let him conceal his secret?

"Bret!" Freddie cried from outside the room.

John looked behind him and saw their singer bolt down the hall and halt right at the end of the doorway, the low voice of another quickly following as the two of them entered the small room. And there it came again. That small twinge in his stomach whenever he saw that boy. He wasn't quite sure what caused it. Sure, the most obvious thing to choose would be jealousy, but he knew there was something else mixed in with it. But what was there? Surely there wasn't another malicious emotion mixed in with his own jealousy was there? He was already jealous enough from Roger and Brian's successful relationship and then there was Freddie with his newly found relationship, or at least new when compared to the other's ten years together. The two of them on the other hand had been together for just barely a year and Freddie still retained that puppy like attitude around the new boy.

"Hey guys." Bret said in that clear voice of his, which was one that complimented his overall physical appearance. He was much taller than Freddie, rivaling Brian's height too. He had a much sturdier build than any of them and a mysterious yet friendly blue gaze that was sometimes covered by his dark blonde hair whenever it drifted down to the front of his face. Unlike the boys Freddie sometimes chased after, he didn't have any facial hair, though he did make up for that with some kind of hair on his chest, though it was rarely seen since he usually wore t-shirts or flannel.

He looked over at the other two, seeing that usual friendly light return to both of their eyes as he resumed his usual role of being quite unless spoken to. Whenever that man was around that part of him seemed to become more obvious. Though not exactly sure why, he decided to leave it at that since it did work for him. The last thing he wanted to do was act aggressive in any way towards him since the last thing he wanted to deal with was a rivalry between the two of them. He had never encountered any issues with Bret nor had the rest of them, then again how was he supposed to have any problems with him if there was no way for him to cause any from the position he was in.

"Bret and I are going out later on so we'll most likely be home late." Freddie said, flashing a sincere look over to his partner who gave a similar one back, adding another pang of envy at his stomach at the look of pure admiration in Freddie's eyes. John longed to be there next to him, his arm wrapped around his torso, hell he'd even take being able to hold his hand. How can you even expect any of that to happen? You don't even have the courage to say anything to the other two, let alone say a damn thing to him.

And with that he watched the other two disappear almost as soon as they had arrived, seeing Freddie give a gentle wave to the three of them as they headed out for the night. Once again they'd return back to the hotel they were all staying at, this time being able to fly home the next morning and sleep in their usual flat instead of the unfamiliar walls of the constantly changing hotel rooms. Yet with the return home marked yet another time he'd have to spend contemplating what on earth he was going to do with his life. At least on tour he had the concerts to focus on, allowing him to have some kind of distraction from all the problems that would eventually resurface in his mind after finishing it and being forced to see everyone happy with someone while he'd return to bed with no one once more.

"Another tour finished means a new era to start." Brian said cheerfully, rubbing his hand along Roger's arm while the latter ran his hand through his curls, playfully jumping up and sneaking in a gentle kiss on his cheek.

How lovely. You four can go home with someone at your side while I'll be left alone again, just like it's always been.

...

Water splashed onto the hard surface of the shower as John hung up his towel on the nearby towel bar, giving a quick look in the mirror before getting into the shower. As expected, all he got was the expressionless reflection of his face, despite the obvious weariness that covered both it and the rest of his body. That shine of excitement had dulled to the normal tired shadow that covered his eyes, his shoulders were slumped forward, his shortened hair slightly unkempt due to not cleaning himself up for the past three days, and that feeling within him that told him to forget even trying to clean up and to just fall back into bed and try to escape to the solitude of sleep. But that lingering strand of care still hung in his thoughts as he walked into the shower, relaxing a bit at the warm water that splashed onto his body.

He leaned his head against the wall of the shower after rinsing out the remaining bits of shampoo from his hair, letting the water trail down is back as he closed his eyes to block out any other distractions that would go on around him. This daily routine would start up again once more. Wake up, clean up if he was feeling up to it, laze around all day their flat while the others went out and actually did things, sleep, repeat until those hours throughout the day would be filled with studio time. Until then he'd be stuck at home, stuck with those accursed thoughts about what he should, or even could do with everything around him.

Who was he kidding, nothing was going on around him. Hell it was such a mellow time that it'd be the best time to actually say something, anything to someone so that he could finally move on or at least receive some kind of advice on what he should do with the major predicament in his life at the moment. These three people have been his closest friends for almost ten years now and they were already over and done with being out. Yet he was still scared of what on earth they'd say to him. The last thing, and the most illogical thing, that could happen would be that they'd actually act hostile towards him and abandon him for not conforming to society's ideal standards. That was the worst thing that could happen. But that didn't mean anything else that could happen wouldn't be bad either. What if they told someone and they then came after him? Or they told the press and he'd be bombarded by them every five seconds after figuring out that the bassist of Queen wasn't straight, making it the first and probably only time they'd ever take an interest in him or his life since they never really cared about the bassist of their band. No, they only really cared about the personal life of the frontman.

Their frontman, that devilishly handsome boy who stuck to his thoughts twenty-four seven. Him with that pitch black hair that turned blue under the light, those warm brown eyes that reminded him of a glass of brandy, a beautifully unique smile that made his heart melt every time he lost his insecurities about his teeth and would bare every inch of it, and the most contradictory personality a man could possess. That sweet, personable, shy side of his that mixed with the fiery, assertive, and flamboyant side to form a lovely contrast that made him so intriguing, so lovable that he wanted nothing more than to break through that barrier between the two of them and have it all to himself.

But then there was the parts of him that the primal aspects of his mind craved. That wasp-like body with those strong muscles rippling underneath his skin, a thick carpet of fur across his chest that rivaled a bear's coat, that low, husky voice of his that sent shivers down his spine whenever he spoke to him, and to think those were just what he had been able to see. He couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd look like without any damned trousers on to block his view of what was trapped inside, though that bulge of his gave him a good indication of how endowed he actually was. God all he wanted to do was yank him into his room and get to touch him in any intimate way. To thread his hand through his chest, suck and bite at his lightly tanned skin, run his hands along his back and get to sneak in a strong grab at that tantalizing ass of his while grinding their lower bodies together, the tension around them just starting to build up before they got to anything that should never leave the bedroom.

John groaned in frustration after getting himself out of his lustful thoughts about the older boy, realizing that they had gotten him hard once again. He turned up the heat to the shower, feeling the scalding water fall down onto his skin and rinse away the last patches of soap from his body, slightly burning him as the room started to grow even steamier from the extra heat. God again? You know it's wrong, so why keep it up? Not like it'll ever happen...He argued, absentmindedly moving his right hand up to the head of his shaft, starting to lightly stroke his thumb across the tip. Despite his attempt to clear those dirty, imaginary thoughts of their singer, they were plastered in his brain, growing more vulgar until he began to respond to them, letting his concerns fall away for those few minutes his body would be wrapped in bitter pleasure. The thought of getting him into bed, their gentle kisses beforehand turning into a heavy, fast makeout session as they tasted every inch of each other's mouths. Then tearing off his trousers and boxers at the same time, finally able to see that divine body of his without any obstructions. Finally having him cry his name at the top of his lungs while he pounded into him, silencing him only to deliver another heated kiss upon his slightly swollen lips kept his hand going as he ran it along his shaft, roughly squeezing around the base as he continued with the rough pulls of his hand, his quiet moans just barely audible above the patter of water, growing louder and lower with every passing second he continued with the fantasy. He had given up trying to have an image of a girl in his mind long ago. It would have helped prove to him that he could kill that desire to be with someone of the same sex and could try to change that predetermined aspect of him. But after years of trying to force himself to finish to anything that dealt with women, he gave up and all it did was leave him both relieved yet sickened once he finished. His breath stocked up in his throat as he sped up his movements, causing his body to grow closer and closer to release, that feeling of disappointment hiding at the back of his mind starting to come to the surface as he realized he'd finish like this again. God how he longed for it to hurt when he finished, maybe it would finish those thoughts off once and for all. Yet all it did was make him want him even more, make those desires and feelings grow stronger. All it took now was the thought of having him wail in ecstasy as his imaginary lover reached his climax beneath him, that lovely face tensing up for a mere moment to let out that strident cry before relaxing to a look of pure satisfaction and relief to make him finish in real life. The sharp wave of pleasure spread through to every inch of his body as he emptied himself out into his hand, draining him of the few strands of energy he had left after the concert as he fell back against the wall of the shower, leaning onto the metal bar of the shower door to help keep him from falling onto the ground.

"There, you happy?" John spat under his breath as he held his hand out to the now cool water that poured from the shower head. He pulled back and turned it all the way to the left, feeling the blistering water splash onto his lower body before he stuck his other hand out right under it to wash away the remains of his load. Let it burn. You've accepted this a long time ago, now deal with it. His hand singed beneath the water, immediately turning a bright red from the heat as a searing pain shot through his hand and up his arm. As soon as he felt this numbness start to flow through his hand, he yanked it out from underneath it, flicking his wrist to shake off the remaining drops of water.

He pushed the handle in after standing there for another five minutes, his body needing to recover from its own orgasm beneath the flow of the slowly cooling water while holding on to the metal bar to make sure he wouldn't fall down to the floor. The steady flow of the now frozen water stopped as he got out, immediately wrapping the towel around his waist and not even bothering drying himself off before leaving the bathroom. There wasn't any point, he could walk around without it if he wanted to, but he wasn't too keen on sleeping in a completely soaked bed. It was times like this that he was glad they were all given separate rooms when they went to a hotel while on tour, although Roger rarely used his as he usually slept in Brian's and there were the occasional times Freddie would spend the night with his boyfriend, leaving him the only one without anyone. He didn't need anyone hearing him while he showered, or when he got out and would try to fall asleep. Sometimes it'd be his own mutterings to himself about the same trivial things that plagued his life or, if he was lucky, it'd just be straight crying over what could have been till he knocked himself out. But the latter had grown scarcer and scarcer over time, his body completely numb from the hours he had done it beforehand.

After deciding it was probably best to actually get dressed instead of sulking in a towel all night, he tossed the damp thing over to the other pile of used clothes and such from the past few days they had stayed there and threw on the last clean pair of underwear he had brought with him. He glanced over at the rest of his clothes, seeing just one more neatly folded black shirt on top of a few other miscellaneous items. There was a reason why he had saved it for last. Back before they had left, Freddie had offered to help him back and had folded that one himself on top of the rest of the clothes he had brought. It brought a weak smile to his face at the thought of being with him alone for those few moments they'd been in his room back at their flat. After shaking himself out of his thoughts, he threw that on, bringing it up to his face and taking in a deep breath, catching the extremely faint scent of his cologne that luckily still clung to the fabric.

Thankfully it was naturally dark in his room, aside from the few streetlights that came in through the slightly opened blinds on the opposite side of it. John didn't really care, it helped him see if he ever needed to get up at night. He climbed under the blankets and immediately grabbed his pillow and brought it down to his chest, hugging it close against him as he laid his head against the pillow behind it. Despite his exhaustion from everything he had done throughout the day, sleep was still avoiding him, telling him that it wouldn't be that easy to drift off into his slumber.

Just say something, they're not going to do anything to you. The familiar defiant feeling started to build up again, that minuscule hopeful part of his mind resurfacing for a mere moment before it'd be shot down again. And how can you be so sure? They could tell someone. But they're not going to. They didn't do it when Brian said something and they never said anything about each other. He bit down onto the pillow and dug his nails into the opposite side. If you're so sure they won't do anything, why don't you say something? Because there's no point. He doesn't care about me like that, so there'd be nothing waiting for me. He'll never care. Then say something to at least one of them! But they'll tell him and it'll be far too obvious after that that I've been in love with him for ages.

"Fucking make up your mind!" He spat, throwing the pillow across the room and hearing it crash onto the desk near the window. The sweet sting of tears filled his eyes as he crumbled back down to the mattress and buried his face in the pillow behind him, doing the same as he did with the other. As he sobbed soundlessly into the pillow, his thoughts subsided and gave him a small break from those treacherous things. He didn't want to have to endure this anymore. Have to face every night with the familiar loneliness and have to deal with all his emotions by himself. But why should he burden the other three with his own issues, or even just one of them? He didn't have the closeness to any of them that they had with each other. He was the fourth wheel of the group, no matter how many times it seemed like he fitted in with them. Roger and Brian would always be the closest and Freddie had been the one to start this whole thing and then they just added him in. Maybe it was for the best that he was the fourth wheel. They would have noticed all of this if he had been closer to any one of them. Even if he opened up about anything that was wrong at the moment, there weren't any guarantees they'd help him.

Sadly, as soon as he had started crying, the tears abruptly stopped falling, his eyes going dry even though he desperately wanted to continue. It was the only way he could get any type of relief now a days that didn't make him feel sick afterwards. He had tried for years to try and change it. To think he had thought it was possible since he hadn't actually fallen for any guy at school or anywhere. But he had never fallen for a girl either. At least if he never got married he'd be more accepted then if he even kissed a guy in public, let alone propose to one. There was such a small light at the end of the tunnel, just one hope that society's standards would leave him alone. But those cares became less and less important in his mind as he finally was forced to accept the fact that he wasn't gonna suddenly become attracted to a girl in any sexual or even romantic way. There was just nothing he could do to change it and he had been mildly alright with that fact, but it was the point that he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't go right up to each of his friends and tell them that or even just one of them, let alone try to mention a damn thing to their frontman about his real sexuality. He tightened his hold around the pillow at the thought of him again. That's what was causing all this, the fact that he was madly obsessed with someone he could never have or even get over.

"Why'd he have to call me? Why did I join this fucking band in the first place?" He growled against the pillow, digging his nails even deeper into the pillow as he tried to force himself to cry again, yet received nothing but a small pain in his eyes as he opened them again and stared into the darkness of his hotel room. He didn't need to stay with the band, but after seeing that boy for the first time, he couldn't say no to never seeing him again. Saying no to that lovely voice and having to disappoint him by leaving their band incomplete would have left him feeling guilty for the rest of his life. So he said yes. Never would he have thought all of this would happen. To go to bed with an agonizing pain in his heart that he couldn't have him to himself, or even get to know him in any intimate way ever. All of that just killed that little light and left him struggling to find any type of happiness that didn't involve useless fantasies that focused on him.

"Leave it alone Deacon." He muttered, using his last name to try and mock himself with the remaining energy he had. His vision started going hazy as he fought to keep his eyes open. Thank God I can sleep tonight. Those harrowing thoughts fell back down to his subconscious, his body now more concerned with getting what he hoped would be a dreamless sleep since his dreams were anything but pleasant any more than to sit there and contemplate all the wrong things he had done throughout his life. With one final incoherent thought, the cold embrace of sleep enveloped his mind as he fell into any dreams that might await him.

...

"John? John!"

He jerked awake at the sudden shake at his shoulder, slowly opening his eyes to the sudden brightness of his room. Turning his head to see who had woken him, he wasn't surprised to see their drummer looking down at him, looking quite concerned as he leaned on the nearby nightstand. He suddenly realized that he wasn't wearing much from the waist down and tugged up the blanket in an attempt to cover up his lower body, desperately hoping Roger wouldn't see anything that he didn't want him to see.

"Well, come on sleepyhead. Bri and I already packed our stuff and I'm guessing Fred finished too last night since he's already been over in our room for a good half hour. And from the looks of it," He paused, glancing behind him at the small mess of his room, "You're not."

"Thanks Captain Obvious." He said quietly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to try and help himself wake up.

"How about I go clean up and you get ready?" He asked softly, flashing a kind smile.

Without spending any time to let his offer sink in, he gave a gentle nod, glad that he wouldn't have to deal with packing everything up himself. Roger immediately acted on his offer and got up, heading for that small pile of clothes near the wall while he headed for the bathroom to try and clean up a bit. Though he didn't really care whether or not he cleaned up that morning since he could do it at home, he didn't want to look like a mess in front of the other three or any press they would encounter on the way to the plane. He shook his head, trying to clear the negativity for a moment. You need to stop this. Just try to stay on top of all this for once.

John threw the towel he'd used to clean off his face off to the side of the counter, looking back up at the mirror in the process and tried to psych himself up to try and put on a more positive outlook, though he was having a hard time trying to find one. The only thing he managed to find was to try and impress Freddie by not looking like a complete mess before he saw him again, sadly those dark circles under his eyes would easily give away that he hadn't gotten the best sleep the night before despite it being one of the least irritating sleeps he'd experienced in a long time.

Stop dwelling on it. Just clean up and get back out there, that's it. He groaned softly before heading back out there, still wearing that loose fitting t-shirt and one of the pairs of jeans he'd brought with him.

"There we go, all packed." Roger told him from the bed.

"How did you pack-" John began, taking notice of the quite tidy room he was in, feeling quite surprised since their drummer wasn't one to be immaculate.

"I've been with that neat freak for almost ten years, I've taken a few tricks from him when it comes to cleaning and speed."

Without questioning it, he headed out with the older boy, heading for their room just down the hall and tugging his luggage behind him. Before they entered Brian's room, he felt a heavy weight of despair start to build up on his chest just as he remembered that Freddie had been out with Bret the night before, meaning there was a good chance that he would be in there with him. Please don't let him be there. I'm in such a better mood and I don't need to see the two of them together. Roger threw open the door, shouting a loud greeting to no one in particular about how they were finally there.

"Well it's about time." Brian chided as he came out from behind the counter of the kitchen. John almost cried out in happiness after taking notice of the absence of Freddie's boyfriend. Instead, he just saw the happy shine of his eyes as he looked over at the two of them, obviously well rested and eager to get going. He took a seat on the opposing chair, leaning forward and folding his hands together, looking across the room and trying to avoid looking over at their singer, which proved to be nearly impossible to accomplish.

"John, did you sleep well? You look a bit rough." Brian said softly, looking over at him with a gentle and concerned look that was similar to Roger's. Freddie glanced over at him too, eyebrows raised in curiosity. The worry in his eyes melted his heart as he looked away from his gaze. It's just basic concern, don't get your hopes up Deacon.

"Yeah, just still a bit drowsy. I'll...I'll get a better one tonight." He whispered, twiddling his thumbs and gnawing the inside of his cheek as the rest of them resumed their conversation about how nice it'd be to return home and little comments about the tour. Despite his desire to keep up the energy he'd felt earlier, his ineffective sleep from the night before had started to catch up with him. His eyes began feeling heavy and he soon rested his head on his right hand in an effort to hold it up.

John eventually gave in and let his eyes lock onto the older boy. Even though he saw him every day, he couldn't get enough. That gleeful light in his eyes that seemed to be passed onto everyone he came in contact with, even brightening his own mood for the few minutes they'd be relaxing while everyone packed up their stuff. He had this childish aura around him that made everything he did absolutely precious, as though he could do no wrong. Even now he just looked perfect. Hair neatly cleaned and combed, a fresh white t-shirt with light blue sleeves and a complimenting pair of jeans, and the tips of his front teeth just barely poking out from behind his top lip whenever he stopped talking to let the other two contribute, telling him that he was quite relaxed for the time being. It was ridiculous that he could make him feel like he was on cloud nine by just sitting there, being himself.

It brought that familiar ache in his heart, one that made him yearn to get up from his seat and plant a soft kiss on those lovely lips of his, just to finally let him know how he felt about him even if it did bring the chance of being shut down. At least knowing that he didn't care would be better than living in constant curiosity and anguish.

"Alright boys, everything's packed and ready to go." One of their roadies called from behind the door.

John shook himself out of the stupor at the call from outside the room. The conversation between the other three immediately stopped as John quickly turned his gaze away from the older boy, silently praying that neither he or the other two had caught him admiring him.

Freddie leapt up from his seat and straightened out his shirt. He headed over to the coat rack and threw on his jacket with the other two trailing behind. "Come on then," He said as he opened the door. "Let's get back home."

...

Eight hours, no stops, no ability to sleep due to an annoying and persistent turbulence, and being forced to sit next to a random stranger who had been able to sleep and who's head continually drifted over to his shoulder and he would have to cautiously move her off in a way to not wake her up. He was just happy he wasn't in the middle and having to have another sleeping stranger to worry about. The only truly good part of this was having the window seat. He didn't know why, but he liked the idea of being able to see out the window and see everything as it was. Whether it be a large storm brewing in the distance with blaring crashes of thunder, rain crashing against the ground while the sky turned black, only illuminating whenever a strike of furious lightening would flash across the sky. In contrast, there could be a lovely sunset, turning the sky into a fire with streaks of red and yellow mingling with the blues of day and purples and blacks of night, few clouds present to block the view of the sun as it hovered near the horizon. It was just that peacefulness that existed whenever he saw the sky. There was just this sense of freedom that he loved to admire whenever they flew and he got to fly with that view.

"Sir? Are you done with your tea?"

He jumped out of his stupor and turned his gaze away from the darkening sky, seeing that they would be landing in less than a half hour and would be safely inside of either the building of the airport, a car driving back to their flat, or even back at the flat itself and wouldn't see the storm that was coming in from out in the east. Turning towards the voice, he recognized the stewardess who had been serving him and the other two, when they were awake that is, for the duration of the whole flight. He handed over the small, empty paper cup that had once been full of tea, earning that fake smile of appreciation that didn't cover any of her obvious exhaustion. At least he wasn't stuck with one who would snap at him if he didn't move fast enough.

In a mere few minutes they were back on the ground, his relieved sigh mixing with a few others since he was sure everyone wanted to get off the plane and return home. He figured it was close to nine o'clock at the moment and it was a good hour drive back home, that is if they didn't hit any traffic on the way there. He glanced behind him, seeing only one familiar face among the multitude of unknown ones. Sadly, it wasn't the one he wanted it to be, but he'd gladly take the surprisingly excited face of their drummer, though he also had the hint of tiredness that everyone else had. His excitement seemed artificial, maybe coming from an extra cup of coffee that gave him the boost to stay up.

"Well that took forever." Roger muttered as they got into the lobby, that sentence contradicting his appearance as he crumbled down on to one of the few benches there.

"I'm just glad the tour's over." He said, not completely lying but not telling the whole truth. Yes, it was extremely nice to return home and have some kind of break from music for a bit, but time at home always brought the silence and lack of distraction that the tour would bring.

"You sure you're okay?" Roger asked, "You just seem...really out of it today."

John turned to look at him, almost shocked at the concern in his friend's eyes. The urge to mention that he was actually struggling with so many things at the moment came up in his mind again, but was quickly shut down, though this time it wasn't because of his own apprehension, but mainly because he didn't want to cause a scene in the middle of an airport.

"Yeah..." He sighed, shutting down his emotions again, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

"You know you could talk to us about anything. You're a part of this group too. More than that. You're one of my closest friends," He brought his hand up to his shoulder, "And if you need anything, come talk."

John almost felt tears return to his eyes at his bandmate's sincere words. Instead of breaking down, he gave a gentle nod and turned his head away from the older boy, trying to find the other two among the crowd. Luckily, Brian stuck out among any group of people, whether it be from his height or simply cause of that mound of curls upon his head. Their guitarist was over by the opposite wall, rummaging through his suitcase while their singer stood with his foot kicked back against the wall, the two of them looking extremely exhausted.

He got up with Roger, the two of them heading over, though Roger quickly bounded ahead of him and wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend, immediately making Brian both blush out of embarrassment but also smile out of admiration. Freddie gave a soft smile towards the other two just before they separated. John felt that usual desire come back again, just to do something that differed from him remaining silent about everything he was dealing with at the moment.

Not again. You know for sure something'll happen if you say anything. Give it time, you'll get over him and then you can move on. Just stay quiet, that's all you have to do and you'll be safe.

... 

"Traffic at eleven o'clock at night. On a fucking Thursday." Freddie muttered as he threw his stuff onto the couch once they got into the flat. John couldn't blame any of them for being as annoyed as they were, him included. First having to deal with their driver showing up a good half hour late and then an extra twenty minutes in traffic because of God knows what.

"Look, we're home now. And I bet Bret's back at his flat too so you could go spend some time with him." Brian suggested, slumping down onto one of their couches and throwing on the TV.

"Oooh, what a lovely idea! I bet he's had some time to relax so he shouldn't mind my company."

John felt his heart sink at Freddie's response and how the vexed expression upon his face immediately vanished and turned into a thrilled one. He loved seeing him happy, it was the best thing in the world whenever he got like that, but the thought that he only got like that over seeing Bret just made the whole thing bittersweet, more to the bitter side in this case.

"Maybe you should go soon Fred. Don't want to go too late." Roger said, sounding unusually serious for the time being.

There was this weird emotion in the air. Despite them finally getting home and getting to relax for once, everyone, besides Freddie that is, seemed to be reclusive, especially Roger. He couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly, but ever since they left the hotel, he had seemed uncharacteristically somber. It took a lot to bring down their drummer and if something had upset him, it was usually about his relationship. But the two of them seemed absolutely content with each other this morning and he highly doubted they got into a fight at any point in between that, especially after seeing Roger's excited attitude back at the airport when he saw Brian again.

Freddie hadn't even bothered bringing his stuff back to his room, all he did was rush into the bathroom to freshen up before he left without another word. Brian and Roger had retired to their bedroom while he sat in his own room, unsure whether or not to try and fall asleep or to lay there with a bit of music on in the background to try and drown out the storm that raged on outside or the occasional chatter from the room across the hall.

He fell back onto his bed and buried his face in his hands. He didn't want music or even pure silence; his thoughts were elsewhere for the time being. You know he's having such a good time with him out there, without you. Another stab of pain hit his stomach at the thought of them together, alone. Just the pure infatuation in the older boy's eyes whenever they were in the same room together made him ready to do anything to get to be in Bret's place. To have his arms wrapped around him, having his face buried in the crook of his neck while they just enjoyed each other's company. Even to get as close as Brian and Roger were seemed like only a fantasy, yet Bret seemed to be living it, right now, and could get it every single day if he wanted to.

You lost your chance and that's your own fault for being a coward. Now look where he is and look where you are. He's perfectly happy without you. A large rumble of thunder outside made the whole area feel even darker than it already was. That voice was right, he could have come out earlier and might have actually had a shot at it then, now what was he supposed to do? Put Freddie's happiness at stake and ruin his relationship with Bret just to get him to himself? If he ever did that, Freddie wouldn't even speak to him, hell he'd probably kick him out of his life for good if he ruined his relationship.

"Just a shot, that's it..." He whispered in a weak voice, "I don't ask for much...Hell, I've dealt with enough shit in my life, I deserve just a bit of happiness."

He fell into his pillows, wrapping his arms around them again as he tried to force his thoughts out of his head, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and try to escape from these tormenting thoughts. Why was everyone else around him happy? Brian and Roger were perfect for each other, and time had shown that. Sure, they fought, he'd been a witness to one of their more brutal ones, but they always made up and were like they were ever since he had met them. They didn't strut their love all over the place like some new found couple did, more specifically like Freddie and Bret did, but it was more subdued, yet still obvious. Brian had such an admiration for Roger he was sure it beat out his love for his guitar, and that was saying something. He had never seen a boy love something so much and then to find someone who made him care about them more than his precious guitar was something absolutely amazing.

They deserve it. You know that. They had the bravery to come out to just each other. Look at you, unable to even mention shit to one of them while they did it already and look, nothing. Then let me say something! Oh but no, what if they do turn on you?

"I said leave it." He hissed, knowing how ridiculous he sounded at the moment now that he was arguing with himself again.

Before he could start up the debate again, he heard a soft knock at his door. He whispered a soft 'Come in' and soon saw the expectant faces of his two bandmates. Brian looked a bit uneasy while Roger's expression completely contradicted him, looking extremely confident in whatever it was they were going to say.

"John, come out to the living room for a sec."

I should be thanking you, gets me out of this hell. He followed the two of them down to their living room, falling down onto the couch and looking up at the older boys, waiting for them to take a seat as well, yet they just stayed standing. Brian stood up against the TV case, keeping his head down, a sudden spark of nervousness in his hazel gaze while Roger took in a long breath and crossed his arms across his chest.

"John, you're not okay." He started, directing a deathly serious glare towards him, "You're not yourself lately and you think we don't notice that. I already know what's going on. But I think it's time you stop all this bullshit and get your cards out on the table."