Darkness. Winds howling around him, the rustle of branches, the occasional crunch of dead leaves, and the cry of an owl told him well enough where he was once more. Ice cold terror shot through his body as he struggled to get back onto his feet, wanting nothing more than to get out of this hellish place. Anything was safer than just sitting there in the open, ready for something to grab him like he was an injured bear cub that was barely a week old. He tried his best to see anything, something so that he'd know where he was going, but all the light he got was the menacing dark orange glow that sat at the edge of the horizon, the rest of the starless, midnight sky looming over him and slowly trickling down into the light he already had.

John steadied himself and blindly began running, silently pleading that he was going the right way and getting away from whatever it was that was chasing him. He tried to keep track of every turn he made, hoping that he wouldn't end up running around in circles and finding himself in the same spot he had been in earlier. A sharp cold wave crashed over him as an icy wind blew across the forest, any remaining heat that was evident swiftly being washed away. He stifled back his groans of pain at the strings of cuts that were being slashed across his body from the low hanging branches of the trees and continued running, knowing he had no time to stop and nurse the small scratches along his arms and sides.

His lungs burned in his chest, the air around him making them ache even more so. Every gulp of air he tried to take in just made everything seem hazier and made him feel as though he was moving slower. The air wasn't natural, that much he was sure of. It wasn't purely toxic, or else he would've been knocked out long ago, but there was just enough toxicity inside of it to make him sluggish and to make his body feel as though he was inhaling pure ash. Yet he wouldn't dare stop, he couldn't stop moving. It'd find him, even though he wasn't too sure what it was. He just knew he couldn't face it, not yet. He couldn't see anything ahead of him or off to the sides and his hearing was compromised from both the rush of wind from around him, the blood pounding in his ears, and the hard beating of his heart inside his chest blocking out almost every sound surrounding him.

His mind and body froze as he heard a loud snap in the distance, a low rumbling sound following it as the crunch of leaves came soon after, steadily growing louder. He frantically looked around, trying to pinpoint where exactly the sounds were coming from so that he could run in the opposing direction. Soon he gave up and ran in yet another random direction, hoping with everything he had that it wouldn't be able to find him. His sight was growing less and less helpful as the orange glow began to darken as well, the warmth of the yellow slowly disappearing as more and more red began seeping its way into the orange, the black of the sky compromising his sight even more so.

"You're not safe! Can't hide from this forever!" A low, booming voice called out, echoing through the trees and almost making him stop completely. He opened his mouth to argue, yet all he got was the blistering pain in his throat as he tried to speak, earning a fit of heavy, loud coughs and forcing him to slow his pace to try and recover.

"Look at him trying to escape! He's just a weak coward, too afraid to face a damn thing."

"I can see you! No point in running from me now."

He ignored that voice, shoving the now thicker branches out of his way and paying little attention to the scrapes they left behind along his hands when they whipped back into place. He wanted out, yet this woods seemed to go on forever. No light in the distance, no decrease in the number of trees, not even a single person there to help guide him out. He was alone with that horrendous voice towering over him, every sentence it spoke sending a cold shudder down his spine as though it was breathing right down his neck.

"You're just worthless. What's the point in running from the inevitable? Too scared to face what's going to happen in the end?"

As his desperation began to reach the peak, he began believing what it was telling him. He was dead either way, so why not just face it now and get it over with? There was no point in avoiding it. In this moment of doubt, his running slowed to a weak walk, his mind now becoming aware of its lack of energy to continue on with its running from what was chasing him. He should just give up, face whatever it was that was chasing him and let it win so that he'd be done with it all.

"Taking the easy way out? Think giving up will save you? You're not getting anything for taking it easy. Besides, where's the fun in that?"

Its words terrified him. It wouldn't let him give up, yet it wouldn't let him escape. He just wanted out of this hellhole, just to find some kind of safety once again. Yet he'd given it up and was now this thing's little toy to let him run aimlessly through these woods in hopes to be able find security, even though both of them knew that he wouldn't escape from its game. John wanted to just break down and give up, just to let the frustration and fear engulf him. What was the point in continuing with running? As it had told him, it was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not.

John instinctively looked behind him to make sure nothing was right behind him, yet before he could see anything dangerous behind him, his chest slammed into a low hanging branch as he fell back onto the forest floor, his upper body searing with a sharp pain as he struggled to catch the breath he had suddenly lost, his mind and body trying to ignore the accompanying burn of the air as it went down his throat. He tried to get up, just to keep moving so that he wouldn't seem like he'd given up, but his legs wouldn't work. They both ached from the strain of running so long in such a short amount of time and he didn't have enough time to catch his breath in order to even start walking, let alone resume his earlier speed.

The orange glow had completely disappeared and was now slowly darkening to a dark crimson. The owls hooting and cries had ceased and were instead replaced with an eerie silence that was only broken by a sudden branch cracking. He tried to move in any way possible, but nothing was working. His stamina was gone and all he wanted to do now was fall back onto the ground and give in. No voice to call out for help, no way to signal for someone to see him stuck there, nothing. 

A low, throaty growl came out from behind him as he heard the leaves crunch beneath whatever was moving from in front of him. He tried to push himself into a seated position to try and get a glimpse of what was in front of him, yet his arms gave out as he came crashing back down to the hard forest floor. In a mere second he heard an ominous snarl come out from his side, a large, brooding figure standing on all fours slowly moving towards him, a smaller one soon coming out from behind it. The two beasts were soon standing in front of him, their hackles raised to make themselves seem even more threatening as the larger of the two gave a loud, menacing bark, making him jump as his body began to shake.

He pushed himself up once again, ignoring the burning pain that shot through his body as he tried to clear his eyes to get a better look at the two of them. Unfortunately, the scenery itself was turning hazier and hazier from his deteriorating sight and all that he could catch were the obvious parts of their appearances. The two wolf-like creatures slowly stepped forward, the smaller one making sure to remain behind the larger of the two. Its dark brown fur made it almost invisible among the pitch black trees, but its eyes told him where it was as it stared him down with large, pupiless, hazel eyes. It's long, black claws glittered whenever the dark light hit them just right, making him deathly afraid of when it'd decide to strike. However, that one was far less terrifying than the other one. The lycanthrope was nearing closer and closer, it's claws both thicker and longer than the other's as they raked themselves across the ground, leaving behind deep cuts in the soil that were at least three inches deep. It bared its fangs once more, revealing a second row of teeth, each tooth as sharp as its claws and each one stained with old blood. It too had dark fur, but unlike the other it was much easier to see due to the blatant streaks of gold fur across its face that were reflected in the poor light along with its own intimidating pair of eyes, at least that's what he figured they were. Instead of normal wolf eyes, or even like its partner's pure hazel ones, this one just had two dark holes where its eyes should've been, each filled with a blazing, icy blue fire that was growing bigger and bigger as it got closer to him.

"Get him!"

As the two hounds leapt at him, the scene around him melted away. Instead of the icy chill of the forest floor on his hands, he felt a familiar texture that belonged to their living room carpet. His body no longer ached as much as it had, but there was still this chill in the air, the same one that had been with him in the woods except now it made his heart feel like a ten-pound weight in his chest. He followed this growing urge within him, the invisible beckoning coming from the end of their hallway pulling him up from the ground and making him begin to follow it.

Everything around him seemed to have this fuzzy tint to it, making it hard for him to see anything as clearly as he wanted to. The room around him also seemed to be shifting in order to make things even more disorienting for him. Yet he finally made it down the hall, peering into Freddie's bedroom and seeing him fussing over his hair in the mirror attached to his dresser.

"Freddie?" He found himself saying, his voice seeming perfectly fine after running rampant through those poison filled woods. 

"What on earth do you want?" Freddie asked, a brutal, annoyed tone flooding his words as he fought to keep his gaze on the mirror in front of him.

He was quickly taken aback from Freddie's harshness. He never acted like that when he spoke to him, hell he never seemed to get pissed off with him at all, at least not as much as he did with the other two and even then it wasn't too often outside of the studio. He opened his mouth to respond, but instead got an irritated huff from the older boy as he turned to face him.

"Look Deacon, I'm not into you so don't try asking again." He told him with the utmost disgust in his voice.

His words knocked all the breath out of his body, a sudden wave of hurt and panic crashing over him as he flashed a pleading glance over to him, desperately hoping that he didn't mean it and this was all just something that he was doing to him to play with his emotions. How on earth did he know? Had he mentioned it to him? Did he somehow find out on his own? He tried to keep a steady gaze and hoped that all he was doing was toying around with him. But the serious and revolted shadow in his eyes told him otherwise.

"Well? What is it then?" He barked after he remained silent for the next few moments.

"B-but..." John began, his voice shaking as he struggled to comprehend what he had just said and how on earth he was supposed to respond to that.

Freddie's unnerved look upon his face suddenly turned into one of revulsion, his lip curling up as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Are you actually kidding me? You really think you'd have a shot with me? Look at you! Why would I go after you when there are millions of other people out there who are far better than you."

His body began to shake as his hands fell limp at his sides while he struggled to put together a sentence, his body completely lost in shock at having to hear its worst fears spoken aloud to it. "P-please, j-just-"

The older man made his way over to him, placing his index finger in the middle of his chest and staring directly into his eyes, forcing him to look into those now pure black eyes that were glittering with malice and loathing. "I will never go out with such a bitchy child who can't even speak to me and who looks like some scrawny, underfed mutt."

He made his way over to the doorway, flashing one more repulsed look over at him. "Good lord, you actually thought you had a chance with me. I'd pity someone who's that idiotic."

Freddie vanished into the hallway, leaving him alone in the older man's bedroom as his heart felt as though it'd stop, tears quickly collecting in the corners of his eyes as he tried to get out another sentence, another word, another sound to try and get him back there so that he could at least apologize for acting like such an idiot, yet what was there for him to say to him? He was right, it was a stupid idea to even think he could be interested in him. Look at what he said to him and how he viewed him. He despised him, he had made that blatantly clear with just a few short minutes without anyone else to hear.

"Pity. Anyone who's got some common sense could tell that he wasn't interested in you. And look what you've done, killed a friendship too."

"N-no, that-" He stuttered, feeling a growing pit of doubt within him that jumbled his words and thoughts even more than they already were.

"How so? He doesn't respect you enough to call you by your first name, let alone have enough to call you a friend. You're just some worthless thing he has to put up with. He couldn't care less about you and you know it."

Tears streamed down the side of his face as the taunts of the voice disappeared from around him, his eyes flying open to the darkness of his bedroom as his body continued to tremble, the steady stream of tears from the dream still lingering upon his face as they dripped down onto his shirt, the sudden resurgence of what had happened making them fall even faster and heavier than before. He didn't know what he felt. Fear, sadness, horror, humiliation, a mixture of it all? Just the look of pure animosity in Freddie's eyes and just how much hatred sat in his words made him terrified to even move at that moment, let alone try and think logically.

Worthless. The word rang in his mind and all he could do was believe it. How could he even fantasize about being with him? It'd never happen. Hell he couldn't even get it in his dreams, let alone real life. He was a fool for believing he could ever have a relationship with someone like that.

Just accept that you're not good enough for someone like him. He's never going to love you as much as you love him...

...

He didn't get the chance to fall back into anything that would be qualified as sleep. Instead he drifted in and out of consciousness for the next three hours till his clock hit seven. John shoved himself into a seated position, his body feeling stiff and sore, softly begging for him to just lay there and not get up, the weight on his heart almost pushing him back down. Yet he knew if he didn't get up then that he'd draw even more attention to himself from the other two and the last thing he wanted at that moment in time was another confrontation or even a lengthy conversation with anyone.

Even though he didn't want to clean up, he found it better to get it over with in case he'd run into Freddie or even the other two. He staggered over to his bathroom, managing to throw on one of the pairs of jeans he had laying around his floor that weren't stuck in the pile of laundry off to the far corner of his room. He didn't want to sit in there and risk falling asleep again and having to deal with any nightmare, or dreams in general. His mind had the tendency to follow any horrific dream with one that would tease his darkest desires and he could do nothing to stop it, especially with the latter of the two since they tended to be so realistic that he thought he was reliving a memory instead of having one made up from what he had imagined so many times.

As he looked up to the mirror to check for any remaining patches of soap that may have been on the sides of his face, he accidentally met his own gaze, seeing none of the expected exhaustion or even frustration in his eyes, but instead saw the heartwrenching longing and desperation in them for something, someone to be with him. Every line underneath his eyes becoming another mark of the nightmares he would endure and every single night he spent without someone to share it with. He'd never experienced a reciprocated love like everyone else he knew had or was experiencing at that very moment. He never got to wake up in the morning to the sleeping face of someone he loved, never got to wait through agonizing hours till they could go back home and relax together, and never once did he get to see it all reflected in their own eyes as well. Whether it be with Brian and Roger's nearly decade long relationship or Freddie and Bret's brand new one, each had that little sparkle of infatuation and care that made their eyes light up whenever they met the other's. Yet where was his? His was with someone else who made him feel the exact same way he did towards him. Bret was the lucky one here. He had Freddie's frequent visits to his flat to look forward to every day while he felt like heaven after just speaking to him for a mere ten minutes.

The final part of his dream crept back into his thoughts. He knew it wouldn't happen if he stayed quiet. It couldn't ever become a reality. At least if he kept his mouth shut he could maintain a friendship with him and not ruin what they already had. But there was still that final part of him that yearned for more, begged him mercilessly to go and say something to kill his curiosity. Yet the worst had been shown to him time and time again. He couldn't even imagine what would happen if that nightmare became a reality and he couldn't just wake up and have some sort of comfort in knowing that it was fake. 

His gaze began to grow fuzzy, snapping him out of that trance and making him try to get himself back together and to recompose his thoughts. It's a dream. You've faced...faced them before. You're smart enough not to say anything. He told himself, Freddie's insult of how stupid he was in his eyes creeping back into his thoughts for a split second. The horrific part of the dream hadn't even managed to scare him, he'd been used to those for so long that it was almost a daily reoccurrence to have to be thrown back into those woods and have to deal with that game he was thrown into. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves once more before he headed out to the kitchen, his body desperately wanting anything to eat after not having time to recharge itself from some kind of sleep.

The sweet smell of freshly brewed tea filled the front half of their apartment along with the dull hum of voices coming from their television set out in the living room. It was still far too early for Roger to be up, hell he only got up this early if Brian dragged him out of bed to go to the studio, though that didn't mean he himself wouldn't be out there listening to some random TV show before getting on with his day. Yet it wasn't their guitarist out there. As his luck would show, he was met once again with the sight of their frontman laying lazily on their sofa, a small cup of tea on the coffee table and still sitting in his clothes from the previous day, his hair untidy and a five o'clock shadow covering his face. He didn't look tired at all despite what his appearance. Actually, he seemed quite relaxed and overall happy at that moment in time, perking up even more so as he made his way into the kitchen.

"Morning Deaky." Freddie told him softly, "You're up quite early."

John forced out a soft laugh, "As are you."

"I've only been home for ten minutes. Bret's gotta work today but we are going out later on for a small dinner."

"Right, h-how're things going with you two anyway?" He asked, his hopes rising for any kind of news that there might be some kind of trouble among their relationship.

Unfortunately, he seemed to perk up at the question, giving a soft grin back at him and folding his hands across his lap. "Oh just lovely! Bret's one of the sweetest boys I've ever met. Such a strong yet soft guy." He gushed, his eyes warming up at the mere mention of his boyfriend, sending waves of envy and hurt through his body as he poured his own cup of tea.

"Lucky you." John told him, pulling a weak smile to try and seem happy for their overall successful and genuine relationship even though that didn't help ease the slightly bitter tone covering is otherwise kind words.

"You okay?" Freddie asked him, obviously not buying his attempt to try and act nonchalant about the news of their relationship. He nodded in response, trying to ease the older boy's nerves. John looked over to him, feeling his heart both flutter yet drop at the look of concern upon his face. It broke him to see him look upset, even more so if it was something the dealt with himself. He tried to avoid that puppy-like gaze of his, yet his efforts were proven futile as he headed over to their counter and took a seat at one of the barstools they had placed around it.

"You sure?" He asked, the sympathy in his voice starting to tug at his emotions. He desperately wanted to confide in him what he had been thinking for ages. Just to finally say it to him so that that one thing would be out in the open and he could finally earn an answer to it after so many years. He'd trust him with his life, surely he could trust him with something as ridiculously childish as a crush.

"Is this about what I'd said? About how Bret and I are going at the moment?" He probed, suddenly looking guilty for having boasted about how well they were going right in front of him, "I-I didn't mean to-" He began, sounding almost nervous and upset over the risk of hurting him.

"No, no you're fine. I mean, I've put up with Roger and Brian's stuff for ages so this is just...just usual to me."

"Aw, John you'll find someone. There's that one person for..." Freddie began, pausing and reaching over to lay his hand on his, a violent blush spreading across his neck and face at the now purposeful touch between the two of them. He instinctively wanted to pull away, yet he just couldn't, the mere touch driving his nerves insane yet also bringing the contrasting feeling of joy. "For everyone. Trust me. Sadly, we don't get everything we want..." He stopped again, his gaze flashing away from him for a moment as though he regretted saying that, "But, other things come along if we don't get what or who we want."

John took his eyes off the cup of tea in front of him and looked up at their singer, his heart melting in his chest as his stomach twisted about inside of him, the already present blush growing darker across his face as his eyes met Freddie's. Just him sitting there, giving him that unique smile of his, now not large enough to show everything, but wide enough to let the first few teeth come out from behind his top lip. His pupils took up most of his eyes, dilating so much so that there were only rims of those brandy irises left, but they still held that gentle light in them that made him not even want to say it, but act on it instead and to plant one long kiss upon his lips to show how he felt about him for years.

They stayed silent for a few moments, only moving to break the eye contact that they had held for what some would consider an uncomfortable amount of seconds, yet Freddie's hand stayed on top of his, slowly running his thumb along his, every movement adding another surge of admiration through his body. They weren't doing anything; No talking, no moving, not even finishing their cups of tea that had probably cooled to room temperature by now, and yet it was one of the most enjoyable encounters he'd had in a very long time.

Freddie gave a soft giggle, "Hold up, you've got something stuck on your face." He told him, dampening the side of his thumb with his tongue before bringing it up to the side of his face, wiping away what he assumed was a smudge of leftover toothpaste from earlier. John's breath froze in his throat, both his mind and body buzzing with unexpectancy and shock as he struggled to keep steady at Freddie's soft touch along the side of his face. Adrenaline and infatuation ran rampant around his body as his eyes darted about the room, unable to focus on him anymore as he tried his best not to act like an excited puppy for the time being, even though that's exactly how he felt. Oh God he's touching me. What do I say, what do I say? Do I say anything? Or just sit here? God breathe like a normal person already. How do I breathe normally? How-

"There, all gone." He whispered, letting his thumb rest against the side of his cheek as his eyes locked with his once more, a sigh of both appreciation and embarrassment building up in his throat as his thoughts suddenly stopped. He'd completely forgotten about the dream as soon as he saw that lovely light in his eyes that drastically contrasted the shadow of repulsion that was in his eyes in his dream. Just as his sigh was about to escape from his mouth, one of the doors at the end of the hallway opened, making both his hands retreat back to his lap as Freddie's went back to his end of the counter. In a mere second, their drummer strutted out of his bedroom, wearing nothing but an old pair of trousers that were pulled up enough so that they wouldn't fall down along with not having their zipper pulled up, the top half of his boxers easily being seen from underneath them, and his own burnt orange robe that was lazily tied up just enough so that it would fall open. His hair was a complete mess, most likely due to him not neatening it up at all before coming out that and the fact that it had been recently cut made it stick out in a few places. Despite that, he looked completely refreshed, his eyes bright and not a single line of exhaustion was present on his face.

"Morning Taylor." Freddie teased, earning a cheeky smile from Roger as he leaned against the end of the counter, "Finally cut that mess of hair did you?" He asked.

"Oh sure, make fun of mine while Brian's got a poodle on top of his head." He replied, a dreamily, lost tone set over his words as though he was still absent in his thoughts.

"Well you didn't have an afro beforehand and I think he'd go wear a fur coat before straightening his hair again." Freddie said, finishing the last bit of tea in his cup while Roger gave another scoff, his gaze coming into focus as he looked over at their singer.

"I'm not the only one with an appearance change. Looks like Deaky's got a beard growing in."

John instinctively brought his hand up to his face, feeling an even more prominent stubble scratch against his hand, making him regret not taking the opportunity to shave it off before coming out here. Hell he probably looked like a complete mess anyway since he didn't even bother to clean himself up before coming out here since he didn't really expect having Freddie out here and all that happen during it.

"I-I was just gonna get it off later on." He remarked quietly, "Finish cleaning myself up later..."

"Roger should take to that too. Already looks like he fought a bear and lost." Freddie said, laughing at his own joke a mere second afterwards and prompting a soft one from him too that was soon reduced to a soft smile.

"I did nothing that extreme-" Roger began in calm voice.

"Really? From how you two sounded last night I would've thought you two were fighting a couple of animals! Especially some yowling cat with how you sounded."

"Oh real funny," Roger replied, even though he tried putting a bored tone over his words, it wasn't too hard to see him fight back a laugh at having been caught doing something last night. Then again it would've been funnier to see Brian's reaction as well since his were far more hilarious when he began fumbling over his words after getting caught in the act of doing his boyfriend. "Like we've never had to put up with you getting shagged in the other room."

The two of them broke out in laughter, John only joining in out of conformity since he really didn't have much experience in that area of relationships. To be fair, he didn't have much knowledge with relationships in general since the first "relationship" he'd ever had was purely artificial and he'd never gotten further than a kiss. Then again he had messed up the one chance to actually shag someone, though that wasn't going to work no matter what he did since she wasn't exactly meant for him.

He felt quite relieved knowing that they hadn't turned to include him in this conversation, seeing as that'd just lead to either an awkward "No" or something along the lines of them now trying to find someone for him to shag during their next tour, which if he had any strand of luck left he'd get to do so long beforehand. John thought back to Freddie's earlier comment about how someone always had someone out there waiting for him. It'd taken everything he got to stay silent and not give any hint to that he did have someone that he hoped was waiting for him as well. If only you knew that I'd already found the one that I want in you.

...

The day steadily moved by, Brian waking up a mere half hour after Roger and the four of them lounging around their flat the entire day, neither one of them leaving to even go down to the little store around the corner to pick anything up, though he was considering stopping by it later on to grab another case of beer since Roger had taken the liberty of finishing the two of them night before. He figured that was probably a contributing factor as to why he was so loud last night, well according to what Freddie had told him since he had passed out not too long after Roger had left his room the night before.

Now the evening was upon them and like the rest of the day it was fairly relaxed, well among three of them. Freddie however was fussing about in the background, rushing in and out of his bedroom and over to the closet in the middle of the hallway where they stored any extra shoes or jackets. He heard the occasional "Where the hell is it?" or "I'm going to be late and hold him up." From Freddie's bedroom. The other two were barely paying any attention to him, instead absorbed in their own little chatter on the couch while he tried to find any loose change for the delivery guy who was impatiently waiting outside the door with their food. He knew the other two wouldn't move from their spots until the food was actually right in front of them since their focus was on each other, their gazes only breaking if they got themselves into another kiss.

"Ten pounds right?" He asked as he opened the door, seeing a more than annoyed delivery man behind it with their pizza and drink still in his hand.

"Eleven." He answered bluntly.

John reached into his pocket and grabbed the last bill, holding back a comment regarding how it was probably such a small difference that he could let it slide, handed him the money and took the items away from him, watching him glance behind him for a moment before shaking his head in disapproval and walking off, stuffing the money into his back pocket before he disappeared.

He let out a long sigh, closing the door and putting his wallet back into his pocket, and turning around, a noise of disgust halting in his throat as he took his gaze off of the two in front of them. The last thing he needed to see was Brian hovering over Roger, the two of them completely absorbed in a hefty makeout session, a few quiet moans escaping from the two of them every couple of seconds while they rubbed their lower bodies together, Brian's arm wrapped around Roger's chest while his other hand sat entangled in his hair. John tried to keep his attention off of them, hoping that they'd stop on their own within the next few moments. However, with the unmistakable sound of a zipper coming undone filling the room, he finally stepped in to stop their plans to get more intimate out in their living room.

"Alright no, I'm not going to eat with you two doing it on the couch next to me. Save it for the damn bedroom or at least wait till we've eaten."

"What...Oh fuck, sorry about-" Brian began, sounding a bit dazed as he pushed back off of Roger, who was still laying back against the couch, quietly laughing to himself as he headed over with their meal.

"Aw c'mon John, let us have a bit of fun on the couch." Roger teased, turning around face him for a second and flashing that trademark grin of his back at him as though they'd done nothing out of the norm.

"I'm not watching or even listening to any of that."

"Agh, you're no fun." Roger replied, leaning over to help Brian stable himself in his seat as he leaned back and forth, trying to stable himself in his seat.

"I believe he's had a beer or two." Roger told him.

"I can tell. Though where you found any-"

"Like I'm gonna say where I keep my spares." Roger interrupted.

John ignored him and carried on. "...I'll get some more later on so that he doesn't drink anything else. To be honest, I'm surprised you're not in his spot."

Roger rolled his eyes as a blush of embarrassment crept up onto his face, his gaze moving off of him and over to the already open box and taking two for himself, two of them already missing and on Brian's plate as Roger wolfed down the two he'd taken in a split second, his eyes now taken off of Brian and locked on the TV screen.

"Hmm, don't worry babe. We'll get going later on." Brian told him, the slightly vulgar sentence sounding extremely contradictory to his usual prudish nature. Roger ran his hand through his lover's curls while John gave a low groan of exhaustion, the image from a few moments ago still fresh in his mind. Brian leaned forward to take another one of the plain slices for himself while he took two for himself, bringing his right leg up and letting it rest across his left and turning his attention to the TV as well.

It was nice. Nothing hectic going on in front of him, two of his friends sitting there next to him, and the three of them enjoying a simple meal. Even Freddie's bitching from the back room had finally stopped, though he figured that it would start up again if he found another issue with getting ready for his date with Bret. Hell, even that wasn't bothering him as much as it usually did, though he had that lovely encounter from earlier to thank for helping put him in a much better mood than he usually was in. Just that little interaction they'd had the day before seemed so small to the actual conversation they'd had that morning, and the fact that it wasn't just a brief hand touch between them just made his heart skip whenever he thought of Freddie's touch along his hand and face. He brought his free hand up to touch the same part of his cheek that Freddie had, a wave of adoration and happiness rolling through him as he sighed softly.

"Alright, help me out here!" Freddie called out from the back room.

John brought the second slice he'd grabbed up to his mouth as Freddie rushed down the hallway, his footsteps echoing through their flat as John took his attention off of the TV set and looked in his direction, immediately tightening his hold around his plate and pizza, his hand folding the crust in two and biting deeper into it as his gaze froze on their singer. He looked stunning, as usual, but this time everything was emphasized to make him look even better. His hair freshly cleaned, blow-dried, and styled to have a healthy amount of volume and shine, freshly shaved so that the once faint amount of facial hair he had had on his face from earlier was now completely gone, a clean pair of jeans thrown on, yet not zipped up quite yet, and absolutely nothing covering his chest aside from his crossed arms in front of it with two shirts hanging over the side of them, water from his shower still dripping down along the middle of his chest, almost following the thick line of hair from the top of his stomach down to the waistband of his undergarments.

His focus shifted off everything else and solely onto him, ripples of infatuation and attraction rolling through his body with every fast beat of his heart. The two sides of his mind were fighting for control: The one telling him to stay put and not make a fool out of himself and the more primal side of it that was begging him to give in and to attack that perfect body of his even if that meant doing something in front of the other two.

"John?"

He shook his head, his senses coming back to him as he realized a trail of saliva had fallen out of the corner of his mouth and dribbled down onto his shirt, immediately making him place the pizza back onto his plate as he stumbled across himself to clean off the mess across both his face and neck.

"S-sorry about, uh, what was the q-question again?" He stuttered, his eyes now darting nervously across the room, now trying his best to keep his sight off of Freddie who was now softly giggling over what he'd just done. John felt his face go red as he brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck, the once invisible feeling of embarrassment taking control of his mind and body as Freddie stifled his laughter and repeated his question.

"I asked which shirt do you think looks best?"

You look the best without one. He thought absentmindedly, silently wishing he would bring the red plaid shirt back down away from his chest so he could get a clear view of it again. "Um, I-I quite like the black...black one." He finally replied as he brought the red plaid one down and the black, button-up back in front of his chest.

"That's what I was thinking." He told him, not even bothering to ask the other two what they were thinking before heading back down the hall, tugging his jeans up just before he vanished out of his sight behind his door.

John wanted to hit himself in the head for acting like that in front of not just the other two in the room, who were now talking to each other in hushed whispers, though even in that quiet tone he could tell Brian's words were still jumbled from the alcohol he'd drank earlier, but also in front of the one person he never needed to embarrass himself in front of. God he'd laughed at him! Even though anyone would laugh at anyone who'd done that, it felt far worse when it came from the man he was absolutely obsessed with.

He fought back a groan and picked up his food again, looking back to the TV set to see that one of the other two had changed it to another channel and was now playing a different sitcom. Freddie's muttering in the background had stopped as he came back out in a few seconds, the volume falling as he brought his focus back onto him, this time making sure he'd swallowed what was in his mouth and placing the remaining bits of it on his lap before looking at him. The black shirt was the better choice now that he saw it on him and it just made him long to be in Bret's place once more and have that to look forward to seeing instead of being the close friend that he'd come to for fashion advice, as if he was the one who had better expertise in this than he did.

It pained him to watch him leave once more, knowing that he wasn't going to get any alone time with him. Bret was the lucky one who'd once again get to have him all to himself and whatever it was they got up to, well, that was how their night was going to play out. He pushed the usual thought to the back of his mind, knowing that it'd just cause him trouble for the time being and he just wanted to relax for the time being before he'd be back in bed again.

As he went to finish up the slice he had in his hand, he caught Roger's gaze for a moment, seeing it focus solely on him and nothing else. The moment lasted for a split second before he turned his attention to Brian who was now babbling about cute the animals looked on the TV screen while constantly interrupting his sentence with a childlike giggle or some other noise of affection. He hadn't gotten much time to get a good glimpse of that strange look upon their drummer's face before he turned away and said look was now replaced with one of pure warmth as he sniggered at his boyfriend's drunken state. He hadn't seemed as relaxed as he had been a few minutes beforehand yet he didn't seemed upset over anything. If anything he looked confused, but even that much he couldn't be too sure of.

...

After spending the next few hours watching whatever TV show the other two threw on, John had hoped he'd feel tired enough to drift off into a soundless sleep after having to endure a rather hectic one the night before. However, as soon as he'd gotten inside of his empty room a sudden crash of loneliness had come over him. He'd thrown on the loose t-shirt that he'd worn from the night before and tried to block out his imagination with the harsh pounding of the rain against his windows. Nothing stopped it. His mind kept envisioning whatever it was that Freddie and his boyfriend would be up to, his thoughts ranging from mindless little conversations to, sadly, whatever they could get up to in the bedroom. While the latter made him slightly uncomfortable, mainly because he'd only wanted to see one of them undressed while the other could easily get lost from his life altogether, it also made him yearn for the aftermath: having Freddie's arms around his chest, both of theirs heaving up and down to try and heal their breath circulation, the heat and energy long gone as their bodies sat in a state of relaxation before he'd pull the older boy close to him and drift off into sleep. It was a nice, while painful, thought to imagine. All it did was make him ache for companionship with someone else that went beyond a friendship.

With his mind abuzz with thoughts of what could be, he found that he was more awake than he should've been as the clock ticked closer and closer to two in the morning. He had to endure a few rare moments of silence throughout the night as for the half hour that the storm had settled outside to a light drizzle, he'd been lucky enough to have to be the solo audience to Brian and Roger's session across the hall. Sadly, it was never low enough so that he wouldn't hear anything due to him hearing either Roger's shouts or a mix between his and Brian's insistent moaning. Once that had been finished, the storm started up again, reaching its previous vigor in a mere fifteen minutes and continued raging on outside.

Oh fuck it. He thought, tossing the blankets off of his body and sitting up, his body not experiencing an ounce of fatigue and the same went for his mind. He tugged on a pair of loose fitting jeans and headed out into the kitchen. Though he wasn't tired and the last thing he needed at the moment was something containing caffeine, he threw on their kettle and grabbed a bag of tea, tossing it into one of the smaller mugs they had and leaned back against the counter, listening to the water start to heat up and the rain slam against the building and glass windows. Ever since they'd gotten back there had been a storm almost every day, only slowing to a soft drizzle or just having clouds swarm over their heads, blocking out absolutely any type of sunlight and tonight was the worst part of it yet. The sound of the rumbling thunder and the occasional bright flash of light that accompanied the lightening made him dread having the power go out. But from the state of the dim light above their stove and the steam shooting out from the spout of the kettle with a bright orange burner underneath it told him that the power was still working perfectly fine.

He brought the kettle up to the edge of the cup, steadily pouring it until it just barely reached the brim, setting it back down on one of the unused burners and flicking the one that was still glowing off. After stirring in a bit of sugar, he slumped down onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the counter, closing his eyes to block out his sight and to take a moment to calm the growing pit of longing in his stomach. His thoughts had drifted back to earlier that day when he had spent that short yet heavenly time with their singer. To think he'd been able to control himself that much with just the two of them in one room and him touching both his hand and face yet hadn't been able to keep any sort of awareness earlier just because he had his shirt off. He should've been used to seeing that after touring with the band for the past few years. Maybe it was because he could get a good glimpse of him without having him strut about on stage like some ditzy stripper having her solo.

That moment there had been a test for his patience or for him to try and not screw up in front of his crush again to see if the earlier occurrence hadn't been mere luck. But the two instances just made his emotions stir about inside of him, overall creating a strong sense of heartache within him that made him yearn for their singer's touch again, just to have his loving personality again that night was something that he desperately wanted. He couldn't get angry with him for leaving that night, nor did he have a reason to be angry with Bret. It wasn't like Freddie was his or that everyone else but Freddie knew about how he felt about him, so what was there to do? He wished there was an answer besides the obvious one of just telling him.

He considered getting up to go get that song he had been working on as a few lyrics swarmed around in his head through the images that were still forming inside of it but soon decided against it, not wanting to leave it out in their kitchen for Roger or Brian to find again, or even risk having Freddie see it. It wasn't exactly hard to find out one thing from the lyrics but with Freddie it could easily lead to more ideas if he found it and he had no clue of how he'd have to respond to an accusation from him about anything he was going through.

A loud crash of thunder sounded from outside, making him jump in his seat as a few drops of tea spilled onto his hand. He groaned in annoyance and reached over to grab something to clean it up. As he began cleaning the small mess up, the front door of their flat slowly opened, Freddie soon appearing from behind it, his hair limp and soaked from the rain outside as it began to curl around the ends. His eyes were wide and focused in front of him, not even taking notice of him near the counter. His left hand was clutching the right side of his jacket, constantly pulling it even further on to him and occasionally running his hand along one spot in the middle of his upper arm.

"You alright Freddie?" He asked softly, tossing the towel off to the side after his concern for his small mess left his mind.

Freddie jumped in his spot, his eyes now darting across the room until they focused on him. He thought he saw a flicker of relaxation come across his gaze yet he also tightened his grip around his jacket, making sure to keep the left side of his face out of his sight as he gave a soft nod in response, giving a soft smile to try and add more emphasis to his silent answer.

"Anything...anything happen? You look kinda shaken up." John said.

"Nothing, nothing big." He told him, his voice sounding extremely hoarse, "Just, I'm just tired that's all."

"Bret doing alright?"

"Oh yes, he's, he's alright. He told me to get going 'cause he's got...got work tomorrow."

John reciprocated Freddie's nod from earlier and finished up the remaining bit of tea in his mug, keeping his gaze focused on their singer as he headed down the hall, whispering a soft "Good night." Towards him as he disappeared behind the walls, the soft noise of his door closing soon following it.

His insides churned with fear. It wasn't like him to act quiet like that, then again it could've been his exhaustion like he had told him. That would explain the condition of his voice for the moment being, that and he had just walked around out in that storm for God knows how long. Surely Bret would've driven him home, though Freddie had walked home from his flat many times, but never in weather such as this. Had the two of them fought? If Freddie had been yelling for whatever reason that'd only add more strain to his voice. It was eventual, every couple fought at some point and he knew that their honeymoon phase would only last so long.

He decided it was best to put it off for the time being. Freddie was probably just tired like he had said he was and even if it was just the cold or a fight that had happened, it was nothing to worry about. Every couple fought, everyone's voice wouldn't sound right if they'd been in the rain for that long or had yelled, and it was quite late at night so it'd explain why he wasn't bouncing off the walls like he usually was. Yet he couldn't shake that look in his eyes. He looked quite scared, which was just uncommon for him to be of anything or anyone.

It's nothing. He told himself, figuring that it was just hismind playing tricks on him, even though that anxious pit inside his stomach wasnow twisting about with worry. He'll beperfectly fine in the morning.