"Ow fuck!"

"Freddie?"

John sat up from his spot on the couch at the sudden shout from their singer at the end of the hall. Ignoring the other two who were also shouting a few questions down the hall, he got up and headed down there, pausing at the closed door and adding a gentle knock on it.

"Oh good Lord, what?" Freddie asked from behind it, a low growl of annoyance following his sentence as he heard him shuffle around from behind the door.

"Y-you alright? You just...Sounded hurt."

John heard their singer sigh from behind the door before he opened it, his hand now cupping the side of his face that he had kept hidden from his sight earlier that morning when he came home. The irritation in his eyes softened as Freddie pulled his hand away from his cheek, a few drops of blood smeared across the palm of his hand while a dark purple bruise across his face was still steadily bleeding.

"Just...Cut myself while shaving." He paused for a moment, giving a quick huff of laughter before looking back up at him, "P-probably not the best idea to shave after bruising yourself in the shower." He jeered, giving a small shy smile afterwards.

He motioned to the shower behind him, John now noticing a rather large bruise across his arm as well, almost exactly the same shade of purple as the one across his face was. John merely nodded in response, wanting to offer some kind of help at the moment even though the job of cleaning the wound up was one that a child could do. Instead he tore himself away from the older man, heading back down the hall to the expecting faces of their drummer and guitarist, both of whom still seemed very interested in why Freddie had just shouted out of nowhere.

"Razor cut from shaving." He told them in a monotone voice, knowing that they wouldn't press for any other information if he didn't make himself sound as worried as he was.

Why was he psyching himself out? It was a razor cut, something that all of them endured and just about every other guy had to deal with at some point or another, and two bruises from slipping in the shower. They'd heal and there'd be nothing else that needed to be said about them. So why did he feel so uneasy at seeing them? It's not like he'd never seen him hurt before, though he had felt the similar frustration at not being able to do anything to help, but it felt different this time around.

You're freaking out over nothing, he's not a child Deacon. He told himself, looking away from their hallway and back at the TV for the time being, now trying to keep his mind off of Brian and Roger's idle conversations about heading into the studio in a week or two to get started on one of their tracks that Roger had finished up and off of the scuffling that came from the bathroom that Freddie still occupied. Though, the reason behind the latter he couldn't find. He'd already told him that his boyfriend had to work today, so why was he rushing around to clean up? Surely he wasn't going out with him again? It'd been less than twenty-four hours since he'd last seen him, then again if he had the chance to see him as much as possible, he'd give his last breath to do so.

"Geez John, he got a razor cut, not a concussion. Relax." Brian told him.

John looked down at the cuff of his shirt, not even aware of the fact that he'd been tearing and tugging at it the entire time. The sudden dull pain in his bottom lip started coming to his attention as he stopped his harsh biting. He looked nervously over at Roger, whose gaze was flashing back and forth between his own boyfriend and himself. Again, he was sitting there with a completely neutral expression, as though he had no care in this quick interaction between him and Freddie. While that might've been true, he'd bet that it wasn't. If he'd taken so much interest in that song he'd found and him coming out, then there was a good chance he had a strong interest in almost anything he did. For what reason, he didn't know. It wasn't like he was his love interest, he already had one to himself. Nor had he ever shown so much intrigue in his personal life. He'd been thankful that he hadn't gone and asked about any more personal affairs besides what he had told him in the past, but he couldn't help worrying that his abstinence from that wouldn't last forever.

"Ah, drop it Bri. You wanna head to the studio and show me that stomping thing or not?" Roger finally said, Brian pulling his attention away from him and almost completely forgetting what had just happened.

"Oh yes, it's just something new I'd like to try with the audience. Seems awfully boring for them to just stand there and sing." Brian told him as he threw on his coat, Roger now waiting on the opposite side of the room with his foot kicked back against the door. Their guitarist continued with his idle conversation about whatever new song he would be writing while they left the room, Roger waving a quick goodbye before closing it behind him, the only sound now filling their flat was the lazy drone of the news in the background and the running of the fan in the bathroom that Freddie still inhabited.

Something was still bothering him from the night before. That hoarseness in their singer's voice surely wasn't a good thing and it was still there this morning. He desperately hoped that it was just an after effect of a possible fight between him and his own boyfriend, mainly because that meant that there was a chance for them to split up if those fights became more persistent. If it wasn't that, then that certainly meant that the cold storm he'd been stuck in the night before was the cause of this. The last thing they needed at that moment was him falling ill, especially since they were most likely going to head into the studio once again as a band now that they were all starting to finalize some of their tracks, well the other three, he still only had one barely started one at the moment and that other track that Roger had found.

"Hey...John?" Freddie called out from down the hall.

At the sound of his name, John looked up from his seat over to where their singer was now standing, his eyes looking depressingly tired as he noticed a few worrying lines of exhaustion underneath his eyes and the rest of his face still looking low. He gave a quick hum as an answer, watching the older man come closer to him as he fiddled around with the cuff of his shirt. The cut along his face had stopped bleeding, though the bruise still stood out against the rest of his features.

"H-has Bret called at all since I've been in there? I-I don't want to miss a call from him..." He said softly.

John's heart trembled for a moment before he shook his head, almost certain that he caught a relieved light flash through his eyes instead of a dejected shadow. Freddie brought his hand up to his face and stroked the bruise that took up a small portion of his cheek, his right arm stiffly moving so that he could place his hand in his pocket.

"You sure that bruise is alright?" John finally asked, the worry that had been gnawing at his stomach pushing the words out of his mouth.

"T-this?" Freddie asked, pulling a faint smile, "Yeah, it's nothing...Just a small razor cut and me being clumsy in the shower." He jeered, moving his hand away from his face and running his fingers through his hair.

A light blush began creeping up onto the older man's face as he made his way over to the piano that sat at the edge of their living room. He took a seat on the small black chair that sat next to it, leaning back and laying his hand against the window sill where a few meager decorations sat, namely Freddie's little glass statue of a tortoiseshell cat that he'd gotten back during one of their tours.

"How's that song of yours going?" John asked, wanting to get rid of the slightly awkward silence that had persisted over the past few moments.

"Oh, that piano one? I got a bit more done, not much. I'm not too sure what to call it, something jazzy maybe?"

"It sounded kind of bluesy if you ask me." John responded.

"Blues...Hmm, I quite like that. A melancholic blues track. That certainly sounds more appropriate." He said with a subdued grin, the look on his face telling him that he could easily sense the awkwardness in the air as well. "Anyway, what about yours?"

"M-mine? It's...It's got a tad bit more lyrics, but nothing much. I-I've got a bit more to write on it."

"There's never any rush to perfection and you're already on the way there. Don't doubt it, the songs you've written already are all lovely and this one'll be no different." Freddie purred, the added tone of encouragement making his heart flutter inside his chest.

"W-well they're n-no rhapsody-"

"And don't think they'll ever be like mine. Or Bri's. Or Roger's. Your songs are yours. Don't compare them to anyone else's."

Freddie cut his sentence off, looking slightly embarrassed before returning his attention back to the piano, his hands getting into the beginning position of his song before he began to play it once again. The mournful tune started up again, its bluesy sound filling their flat as he got up, deciding it was best to not distract him from his playing once again. However, before he left, he decided it was best to shut the last part of his nagging worry up before leaving him alone.

"What did happen last night...When you were over Bret's?"

Freddie's playing suddenly stopped as he looked over at him, his mouth tightening to form a stiff line before he gave a weak shrug. "Nothing too big. We...We kinda fought over something and he'd been too pissed to drive me back so I just walked back. Not a big fight, just a lot of yelling."

John's gaze met his, an unsettling stir of anxiety twisting his stomach around at Freddie's words. He merely nodded, giving a soft smile before he left the room and disappeared into his own, the piano soon filling the apartment again as soon as he'd closed his door. It had been exactly what he had wanted. Freddie's voice being hoarse from yelling and a fight happening between him and his boyfriend. That's what he'd wanted, right? Surely this was the best thing to happen if he wanted Freddie to ever be his in the future. Who're you kidding. Bri and Roger have fought worse than that and they're still together now. One fight isn't going to ruin a relationship. He sighed in defeat, knowing that this time it was just pure logic and not his conscious berating his hopeful thoughts. A single fight wasn't going to end a relationship; it never did unless the two people involved were absolutely petty.

A sudden wave of exhaustion crept over him, his previous night of poor sleep starting to catch up with him now that the day was roughly past halfway over. He sunk back down onto his bed, the memories of the few short times he'd spent with Freddie coming into his mind. The time at the piano, the early morning in which they'd been rudely interrupted by their drummer, and the few short moments ago in which he'd sent his confidence into overdrive with a few quick words about his own songs. Many others surfaced, all of them circling around any alone time he had with him or just any times in which he felt those increasingly strong desires to either say how he'd felt about him or to show him in the most intimate way he could. Hell he'd kill for any sort of relationship with someone whom he'd actually be able to love, but he'd do so much more to be able to be with Freddie. The old hope that he would give him up and be able to move on had long been extinguished. All he found himself doing was finding any way he could at least make him happy, even if it wasn't going to end with him ending up together with himself. He found himself pulling his covers over his body while kicking his jeans off from beneath the heavy comforter, leaving them somewhere in the middle of the bed, his body and mind both physically and mentally exhausted to be able to do much more.

Good lord who was he kidding anymore. He'd try to dumb down the feelings he felt for him to try and convince himself that he wasn't absolutely head over heels for him and that he could actually move on. But the mere idea of leaving that fantasy behind was unfathomable! He couldn't imagine a world where he wasn't thinking about him day in and day out, even though that reality might put him in a better place than the one he was forced to live through. No one could truly understand. He couldn't go tell Roger or Brian, those two had had perfect luck with coming out and had endured no type of hardships with coming out or even finding a steady relationship. Freddie had the same thing going on for him, except that he had yet to find a stable relationship to be in. His parents were completely out of the question. They would completely disown him as would the rest of his family at the mere mention of him not living up to their ideas of what their son should do.  

He was stuck. That's the most basic way that he could put it. No one could help him and there was nothing he could do that would guarantee some sort of success in him either getting with his crush or actually...abandoning him. The latter, while extremely soul-crushing and just plain old sad, would seem to be the one that would free him from this endless sense of despair and longing for a sort of relationship with someone whom he could call his own.

...

Thick clouds of frustration filled the room as he pulled away from his unclothed lover, his eyesight marred for the time being from the sheer excitement that coursed through his veins. The urge to return to his lower body and completely finish him off was growing far more tantalizing than holding it off any longer. He was almost certain he could hear both their hearts slamming against their chests through the already prominent sound of their tearing at the blankets, heavy breathing, and desperate moaning, every second making them sound more and more in need of the other's body.

"G-God come on...Fuck me already..." Freddie begged weakly as he pulled away, his head limply falling back onto the pillows behind them, a feeble attempt at raising his lower body up from the bed following as he resulted in parting his legs even more so, a harsh rush of arousal making his length pulse angrily, now demanding to finally have some sense of relief.

John swallowed thickly before obeying the older man's plead and quickly pushing himself up inside of him, his lover writhing in pleasure and throwing his arms around his upper body. He barely registered the added hold around his body, his mind more focused on finding a steady rhythm of slipping in and out of Freddie so that he could get more of those devilishly sexy moans. He brought his mouth up to the side of his neck, hungrily biting and snapping at his skin while Freddie's nails dug deeper into his back with every thrust he made. He wanted nothing more than this: having Freddie's moans and cries fill the room while mixing with his own satisfied noises, the sheer heat radiating from both their bodies, and the hot touch of his lover's burning skin against his own made him crave it even more, almost making him dependent on his actions now that he was in such a primal and vulnerable state of mind and being.

"Ah-L-like that..." Freddie groaned, his lower body lifting up from the mattress as John felt his dripping length prod at his middle, a sharp wave of arousal rushing through his own frame while he tightened his hold around Freddie's chest, lifting the rest of his body up from the bed and holding him even closer as a rather loud moan escaped from his mouth.

Every little movement he made within his estranged lover made him either mewl with pleasure or make a sudden jerking movement forward. The arousal and lust that stormed through Freddie's dark gaze, the small drops of sweat that dripped down across the side of his face and fell down to the already damp sheets beneath them, the already steady stream of it sliding across his soaked chest and down to his already wet lower body, his jaw hanging slack and allowing those cries of pleasure to easily fill their room, and the burning touch of his skin against his own just made it feel so much better. Anything he did brought a flash of pleasure down his own spine that in turn made him work harder to evoke any more of what he was doing so to create an unending cycle of both of them being satisfied to their heart's content.

John let out a strangled groan as his lover tightened around his stiff member, a hard bolt of pleasure shooting through his body as he attacked his mouth again, feeling him eagerly respond with those quick yet strong movements of his tongue along every corner of his mouth that he could reach. He brought one of his hands out from behind him and buried it in his already tousled hair, his other roaming down and firmly grabbing the right side of his rear, hearing him shout in pleasure as he completed the string of movements by speeding up his thrusts within him.

"Ngh-God...keep going. Fuck...H-harder, f-faster..." Freddie pleaded, his voice giving out before falling back into his insistent moaning. 

His body couldn't help but comply to his lover's demand as he used the last bit of strength he had left to really begin pounding into his body, making sure to push the remaining inches up inside of him with one quick thrust, the high pitched shriek of ecstasy that followed telling him that their singer was really starting to lose himself in his own pleasure. He himself could barely make any other noises besides his own low moans that came from the unrelenting fire of pleasure that had completely overtaken his body, the mere thought of trying to voice anything back out to him about what he was feeling seeming absolutely impossible to even attempt, let alone trying to complete.

The only thing he was able to become aware of was his rapidly growing release within his lower body as he let out a loud moan of his lover's name. However, from how his lover looked, it was clear to him that he was going to finish far before he would. His moans had started to shorten, his movements started become stiff and quick, soon stopping altogether as he tightened his hold around his upper body, and his eyes were now starting to fall shut, a thin line of white being all that was visible while the remainder hid behind his eyelids.

Freddie's body suddenly stopped moving besides a few quick jerks of his chest. "G-God...Oh God...John...John..."

"John? John!"

His eyes fluttered open as he bit back a soft moan that was hanging at the edge of his lips, his immediate response to pull back as he felt someone's hand recoil off of his damp shirt, his hands starting to throw off the blankets due to how hot the room had gotten since he had fallen asleep. However, the slightly stunned face of their drummer next to his bed, the uncomfortably tight hold of his boxers around his throbbing erection, and the knowledge of how close he was to actually finishing in real life made him tug the blankets even closer as he tried his best to hide any evidence of his embarrassing predicament from the older man, who seemed to be holding back a smirk for the time being.

"God what?" He asked, sounding far more irritated than he wanted to.

"Well, I wanted to come ask you if you wanted to head back to the studio later on with Bri and me to check out that new song he's been working on. I hadn't expected to find you 'sleeping' in at three in the afternoon."

"F-fine, I'll be out i-in a second, just let me c-change into something else." He said quickly, forcing him to stifle a groan of impatience as he shifted his lower body beneath the covers, feeling his shaft rub against the palm of his hand.

Roger raised his hands up against his chest out of mock innocence and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him as he felt the still prominent burn of mortification across his body mix with the already searing feeling that was still lingering from his dream.

God, you'd think someone would've knocked instead of just barging into a room. He thought bitterly. At the back of his mind he was hoping that his arousal would start to go away and would just leave him immensely frustrated for the rest of the day until it would come back again. However, all that lasted were the last few sequences of his dream being relayed over and over again, his mind finally giving up and kicking the covers off of him, his hand immediately wrapping itself around his painfully hard cock and letting those images that had been swirling around at the back of his thoughts come forward. It didn't take long to finish, his body having been on the brink of release from just his dream and had only been pushed back from Roger's unannounced entry. He was forced to bite down onto his fist to try and muffle the already loud noises of pleasure that were starting to make their way out of his mouth, the feeling of being so close making every movement feel far too effective than usual. In a mere few seconds with just a few more imagines of how the dream could have ended with his imaginary lover climaxing from beneath him, threw him over the edge, forcing him to work excruciatingly hard to fight back any more moans of Freddie's name or any noises in general as his body tensed up from the sudden onslaught of ecstasy and feeling of pure relief as he emptied himself out into the inside of his boxers.

"C-couldn't have c-chosen a better time." He whispered to himself, silently cursing his body for choosing an afternoon to create that extremely vivid fantasy for him instead of in the dead of night. He fell back against his still slightly damp pillows, wiping a strand of soaked hair off of his face as he tried to recover as fast as he could from his climax before Roger, or Brian, knocked on his door to ask what was taking him so long.

He took in a sudden gasp of air, his body finally relaxing and falling back into the mattress as any remaining waves of pleasure finally subsided and all that was left was a stronger yearning to hold, or even see, their singer once again. It finally dawned on him that he was still out in the living room, no doubt in his mind that he was still practicing that song or even chatting with the other two since he knew that he wouldn't dare leave unless he was ready or gave some kind of allowance of them being able to leave.

After hastily throwing on a pair of clean boxers and a pair of jeans from the ever growing pile of clothes at the corner of his room, he rushed down the hall, adding a few runs of his hand through his hair to try and make it look any better than it previously had.

"Oh finally, got your guts or are you waiting till we've gone to the studio?" Roger called out, making him stop right at the end of the hallway as he finished his sentence.

"W-what do you mean?" He stuttered out, the previous humiliated blush that had started to subside immediately starting to form again.

"Oh come off it John, like you're the first guy to be caught in the middle of a wet dream."

He immediately glanced around the room, dreading if Freddie or Brian would hear Roger's vulgar statement. Luckily, neither was there. His body relaxed at the bittersweet reveal, though he slightly wished Freddie had been there so that he could just hear him laugh, even if it was at his own self-deprecation.

"W-well it's not l-like everyone's going to go blab about having one." He admitted, knowing that there was no use in denying the fact anymore.

"Still, I can add you to the list of those I've caught, though that's really only between us three."

"Maybe you should learn to knock instead of just barging into someone's room."

"Well I wouldn't count Freddie asleep on the couch 'barging into his room' or back when we still shared a flat together and couldn't afford separate rooms. Plus, he's quite loud if that happens, always kicking around at the blankets like it's actually happening. He's a tendency to stop if he's dating someone though. As for Brian, I've slept next to him for a decade. I'm bound to have been woken up or walked in on that, though that's really only happened twice."

John huffed in response, feeling slightly upset over the fact that he'd rushed out here for no other reason as to not arouse any suspicion about what had happened, even though that reasoning was also void since Roger already knew.

"Oh don't worry about it, every guy gets them-"

"It's not-" John began, wanting to shout that he wanted to see Freddie before they left, but cut himself off just before finishing that sentence. "Have you seen Fred?" He said, wanting to get the topic off of that rather humiliating moment and on to a subject he actually wanted to talk about.

A quick flash of curiosity came across the already miffed expression that was strewn along his face before he answered him, the light resembling the same one that he'd seen for a split second the night before. "Fred? Did you fall asleep before he left? Said that Bret wanted to go out with him tonight and that he just couldn't refuse."

His heart managed to drop even more so at the added news of their singer's whereabouts. He looked longingly down the hall towards his bedroom and let out a quiet sigh of exasperation. Why was it so hard to get any more time with him than the few minutes that he got? The others seemed to get far more time with him than he ever did, hell they had about a year to have him to themselves before he had ever been able to meet him, let alone have any time to spend with him.

"So, you're all good? Bri's still down in the car waiting for us and I doubt he's happy needing to wait any longer to show off what he's come up with. Brilliant thing, though quite simple. He's yet to get a title, but the rift he's come up with and the whole stomping thing's something that seems quite interesting."

He nodded in response as Roger went off on what he had already shown him, sounding extremely excited himself over whatever he was going to do with that song he'd apparently come up with. His mind was far too focused on whatever was going on with their frontman and what his life could be like if the dream and its aftermath had been a reality.

...

After spending what felt like hours with the other two over at their studio, having to listen to their guitarist's rather ingenious idea of how to include the audience even more so with their concerts with just mere stomping and clapping, he was finally released after Brian demonstrating said rift that Roger had told him about, the science behind the effect of what he wanted to do, and repeatedly joining in with them to demonstrate it beneath a staircase with a few spare boards. The end of that session had been mainly him listening to their little conversation between each other about little menial things that had absolutely nothing to do with the song, but instead about their life, whether it be their own personal life or their own relationship, and it was by that point that he had begun to really want to drive back home. However, seeing as he had no way to drive back without Roger's assistance or having to abandon them there until they called their flat to have them pick them up.

In the end, he chose to call a taxi to come and pick him up. He was in no mood to walk the distance back and he couldn't call Freddie since he was both busy with Bret and couldn't drive if he wanted to. It was a fairly quick ride since it was before the rush of everyone hurrying back to their house after work. He took the ride with her without any fuss, driving the entire way and listening to the drone of unknown music playing from her radio, and then being dropped off in front of their flat, paying and then heading off, not a single word spoken between them besides a quick "Thank you" and watching her drive off and disappear among the bustle of cars.

As he entered their flat, he took notice of the buzz of the TV they had left on before leaving the house, inwardly cursing himself for forgetting to shut it off. After he shut it off, a dim shuffling noise from the back of their apartment grabbed his attention. His hopes soared as he let his feet carry him down the hall, adding a quick glance into their singer's bedroom and finding it completely devoid of any life, the bedsheets still as immaculate as he had left them this morning and not a single piece of evidence indicating that someone had been in there since.

"Don't expect me to behave perfectly and wear that sunny smile..."

John perked up at the sudden voice, turning around to see their singer gently whispering the lyrics to some unknown song in his room. He stood there fixated as he continued to now hum the tune while folding a piece of what looked like laundry. Freddie turned to grab something from his bed, a hard blush spreading across his face as he suddenly went silent.

"John! Oh, I t-thought you were going t-to be out longer..." He told him, his hands absentmindedly fiddling with the shirt he had in his hands.

"M-me? I was just out with the other two. Bri's got this clever idea for a new song for the next album that he'll probably show to you at some point..." He said, "I-I thought you were still out with Bret."

Freddie hesitated a moment, looking down at his bed as he headed over, his own stomach twisting nervously around within him as he came closer. "I-I was, but I...I just wanted to come back here. It was just a quick visit, bit of apologies exchanged for how both of us, mainly me, acted when we saw each other last."

John's gaze flashed over to the bruise that was still apparent on his face before it focused on the pile of clothes on top of his bed. "A-and instead of sitting out there and watching the TV the entire time, I k-kind of found that p-pile over there and well, decided it'd be a nice thing if I-I just...cleaned them?" Freddie finished, that guilty look on his face making him look absolutely adorable and completely contradicting his usual nonchalant and confident nature as he fumbled around for a response instead.

"W-what? Oh, the clothes. I haven't gotten around to, well, as you said, cleaning them. Thanks...Really." He said softly, gnawing the inside of his bottom lip while Freddie folded up his shirt for him, laying it on top of the other few that he had already folded for him. Majority of them had been folded already, everything ranging from shirts to socks had been neatly folded into appropriate piles to be put away with ease. He wanted to find a better way to thank him besides just saying it, though there wasn't much else he could do even though he wanted to take him into his arms and then thank him, not just say it in such a shy and nervous tone himself.

"H-here, I'll help finish up." John offered, seeing their singer's face brighten up at the suggestion.

"It's no big deal, just a few bits left..." He replied, his composure starting to come back as he put a bit more power into his voice.

"Nonsense. You did most already, the least I can do is help."

Freddie seemed to fight back a smile of appreciation by bringing his top lip back over his teeth again before returning his attention to the bit of clothes they had left. He quickly put the ones he'd already folded away, feeling slightly relieved at knowing that he wouldn't have to do it himself at some point.

"So, what's that new song Bri's got about?" He asked, laying one of the last shirts back down onto the bed.

"Oh, that one. It's actually a great idea. We're all trying to find a way to get the audience more involved at these shows, though your singing does a fair amount of that with them singing along, but Bri wants to try something else."

"Like what?" He asked, sounding increasingly interested in what he had been telling him, though he could still see the remainder of a blush that he supposed came from the little compliment he'd slipped into his explanation.

"Well he also wants to incorporate some of that science he adores so he showed us this little stomp and clap routine that we'd just repeat over and over to some short little anthem he'll finish up at some point. No other instruments, well he's adding a guitar thing near the end, but the song is just vocals, bit of guitar, and the noise from the stomps and claps. He said it'd sound amazing with thousands of people doing it at once and it'll give 'em something to do instead of just standing there singing or just watching."

During his explanation, Freddie had paused his folding of the last pair of jeans and was just staring at him, not a single sudden movement or even a batting of an eyelid, his whole gaze looking completely focused on what it was that he'd seen. He felt the sudden wave of adoration fill him again as he fought back the urge to do anything too sudden and fell back onto his bed, slightly parting his legs out of pure instinct and folding his hands behind his head, ignoring the feeling of his shirt riding up from underneath the hem of his trousers.

"So what do you think?" He finally asked, looking over at their frontman to see him still staring at him.

"Hmm? Oh, that song. I-it's great! B-be something better to do than them sitting there, like you two said. He's shown it to you two so he'll probably drag me over there to show it off within the next few days." He replied, ending his sentence with a soft coughing fit before regaining control of himself.

"That or you'll deal with Roger gushing about it and him driving you over." John told him, earning a string of laughs from the older man as he watched him cover his mouth to try and hide what he considered an embarrassing smile, yet he found it completely precious.

"Hell, Roger still frots over him like he hung the moon! God those lovebirds should do something more instead of just sitting there as a couple."

"Well what else is there for them to do?"

"Bri should just throw a ring on his finger. You see how they look at each other and I swear Roger still swoons over him like they did back when they first got together. I envy you for not needing to put up with that love fest. Good lord they sounded like every other teenage couple at the time and were just absolutely infatuated with one another. I found it a bit bittersweet back then, I was still single though. But...I got someone eventually." He said, his tone darkening near the end of his story.

Believe me, you've no idea how lucky your boyfriend is. "Yeah, though I doubt they'll do anything like that anytime soon. Imagine the press."

Freddie grunted in response, "Lousy prats. Them and the other morons who're so absorbed in other people's love lives or their own damn religion that they can't let others be happy."

You're telling me. Take them away and I could've had you by now... "Well, they seem happy now. I guess that's the overall benefit."

"Yeah...You're right. They're happy and I doubt anything's gonna split them up. It's been nearly a decade and they're so happy together, it's sweet..." Freddie said longingly, his eyes looking uncharacteristically bleak.

"Hey, you've Bret too. Who knows, maybe that'll be you guys in another decade." He said, bringing his own hopes down as a chance to raise his crush's.

Freddie smiled softly in response, turning around to face him as he handed him the last piece of clothing that he'd finished folding. He looked up towards the window on the opposite side of the wall, softly shaking his head while giving a soothing smile.

"Open up your windows love. Let some of that light in here, it's so dingy." Freddie told him, trying his best to get off the subject of relationships as fast as possible and he himself was glad to oblige.

As Freddie threw open the curtains, a loud crash of thunder rang through the city as a flash of lightening streaked across the sky, the older man letting out a quick yelp as he ducked beneath his hands to try and shield himself from the storm outside.

"Guess not much light is coming in." John teased, Freddie returning to a normal position and looking over at him, giving a quick huff of laughter.

"Lord it's been over a week since this storm shit started. When the hell's it gonna end?" He groaned, looking quite irritated at the hard storm that raged on outside.

John sighed softly, reciprocating what Freddie had been doing earlier and let his whole attention focus in on him and watched what he did as he tidied up any little nuisances he noticed in his disorderly room. The little hums of the song he was writing, a few murmurs of what he assumed were the actual words that sounded vaguely similar to the ones he'd been softly singing when he'd caught him earlier, and just a quick movement of his feet every now and then to mimic what he'd do on stage.

"Y-you don't have to clean my room; you know that right? It's my mess anyway."

"I'm being courteous, that's all. Plus, I need something to do unless one of the others come through the door and drag me over there." He said, his hand moving up to rub the center of his throat.

"Tsk, I doubt they will now."

"Knowing them they've probably soiled some instrument we had there or completely wrecked some room there. But they'll clean it up, Bri wouldn't dare leave his room in such a mess, let alone the studio."

"Freddie!" He said in a playful, yet berating, tone.

"What?" He replied with a smirk, "You're telling me they've spent that entire time they've been over there over a song? Please. I'd be surprised if my piano's still intact whenever I get over there next."

John sat back up and looked over at him, seeing his face fall into a grimace for a quick moment before he fell back into another coughing fit. He studied their frontman's face once again, this time taking notice of the flushed appearance of his cheeks and the overall paleness of the rest of it. His hand returned to his neck as he tried to muffle another coughing fit.

"Fred, you alright? You've sounded hoarse since last night-"

"Oh I'm fine. It's just an after effect of that fight."

"It's been a while...You go lay down, don't clean up after me."

Freddie looked back over at him, pulling a nearly childish pout on his face before laying the miscellaneous items that he'd had in his hands back down before giving him a sincere look. "I'm fine Deaky, it's nothing." He told him, seeming slightly unhopeful at his own words.

"Go lay down, a bit of sleep isn't going to hurt alright?" He coerced, going with the sudden wave of protection that had taken over his thoughts.

He seemed to want to object to his persuasions once again, opening his mouth to argue before he slowly closed it shut. Although he didn't want him to leave, that rough voice he still had was starting to worry him and he couldn't let him clean up his mess if he was coming down with some sort of illness. As he left his room, he thought he saw a thankful glint in his eyes, but he had vanished down the hall before he could be completely sure.

...

Over the course of the day, their singer had rarely left his room, really only coming out to the front of their flat to grab something from the kitchen before trudging back down the hall, his movements contrasting the usually vibrant energy that he usually had and instead seemed to be looking much frailer than earlier. Along with the new look of exhaustion upon his face, John had been the only audience to his multiple coughing fits that filled his bedroom after he had woken up for the last time that day.

The other two had arrived home and the joyous looks upon their faces told him that they had enjoyed their time at the studio, though doing what he didn't know nor did he exactly want to. Brian was busy looking through some random magazines that he had recently brought while Roger was watching some TV show that he'd thrown on.

"God has that been him for the past hour?" Roger asked, glancing over at him once he came back down from the hallway.

"All that coughing? Yes, especially now that he's up. He seems to refuse that he might be coming down with something when I was talking to him earlier. He finally listened to me when I said to go lay down and, if anything, it's just progressed."

"Sneak some medicine into his tea. He won't take it straight up until you've gotten him to give in." Brian said, looking up from his magazine and flashing a slightly worried glance down the hall. "I mean, he's stubborn, what do you expect? He especially hates any type of illness."

"Remember when he caught that flu a few years ago. Christ, four newborns would be easier to care for than that. That and there'd be less bitching." Roger added, laughing at whatever had been going on during that time, for it must have occurred when he wasn't in the band or even their lives yet. 

"Lord he's going to be a complete pain if he's sick. He's already loud if he's in perfect health, never mind if he's coughing like that!" Roger shouted after another loud fit of coughing came from down the hallway.

"Oh come off it Rog, it's not his fault he's sick." John berated at Roger's insult towards their singer.

"Right, he's loud no matter what he does." Brian told him, Roger soon giving a small snicker and giving his boyfriend a gentle shove.

"That much you're right about! Hell I'm glad they've stopped shagging over here, sounds like a fucking animal at times-"

"Oh and you don't?" The older man asked, Roger suddenly blushing before he continued with his sentence in a much lower tone, Roger's face turning bright red at whatever he had whispered in his ear before he leaned in closer to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his waist and laying his head against his side.

Yes, let's move on to a better subject. Either your sex sessions or berating Freddie for being sick. John thought bitterly, though he was slightly glad that they were no longer insulting or teasing their singer for what they all knew was an upcoming illness and days of annoyance between all four of them.

"What? Subs are loud if it's a good session. I mean we'll probably have to deal with John's screeching at some point if he gets laid here at some point." Roger retorted, shrugging softly at the end of his sentence and looking as though he'd just won some argument.

"Excuse me?" John said, placing his focus on the older man and off of the hallway as soon as he heard the last part of his sentence.

"I said subs are loud and we'd have to deal with your yelling at some point once you get a boyfriend and fuck here."

"And what makes you think I'd automatically be underneath someone?" He asked quickly, immediately covering his mouth as a blush of embarrassment spread through his whole body as Roger's excited look on his face intensified.

"Aha! Deaky's a dom, who would've guessed!" He replied happily.

"Seems so Rog." Brian said calmly, though there was a similar smirk upon his face as though he was holding back any forms of laughter, John letting out a groan of mortification as he laid back against the chair.

"Oh it's alright Deaky. You certainly seem too quiet to fuck someone-" Roger began, his words just adding to his overall humiliation.

"And you're too rambunctious and domineering to be screwed." Brian said, Roger shooting a playful glare back his way as their guitarist pulled him even closer.

God you need to learn to shut your mouth you idiot. He thought, the feeling of embarrassment still quite present even though the other two had already moved on to idle chatter about Brian's track and anything else that had happened throughout the day. He tuned himself out of their conversation and turned his attention back to down the hall, suddenly feeling quite sorry for their singer knowing that not only was he falling ill, but in being so he'd be confined to their flat and thus trapping at least one of them there as well.

...

As the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight, John was having more and more difficulty with leaving their singer to his solitude in his own bedroom, feeling guilty each time he'd walk pass it and deal with hearing the occasional groan of either boredom, sickness, or possible pain or even the little feeble cough that would escape in contrast to the loud fit of them that were happening more and more as time passed. He desperately wanted to go in there to try and help him, though as Roger had told him, he'd abstain from any help until he finally gave in to the fact that he was sick.

For now, he was sitting in the living room, Brian sleeping in his bedroom while Roger was standing silently over by the counter, softly tapping against it something that vaguely sounded like a drumbeat that he was mulling over. Freddie had fallen silent for the past fifteen minutes, making him hope that he'd fallen asleep again so that he could finally get some more rest. The kettle was still whirring in the background along with the soft hum of the TV that was playing some late night talk show as the two of them stood there in silence.

A door suddenly slammed open as the two of them glanced down towards the hallway, the light from the bathroom turning on, but immediately being cut off when its door shut as Freddie slammed that one shut behind him.

"Poor lad..." Roger lamented as he poured himself a small cup of tea, "Hmm, I bet he'd still go and say that he just ate the wrong thing instead of saying that it's some kind of bug he's caught."

John hummed in response, keeping his focus on the hallway until Roger came across his view and fell back down onto the small chair next to their couch.

"I bet he'll be better in a few days. I doubt it's anything too serious. Surprised he hasn't fled to Bret's house." Roger continued, "To think he's almost always at his side, you'd think he'd want him to take care of him."

"Don't think it's a good idea. They've recently fought so they probably don't wanna see each other for too long." John interjected, turning over to look at their drummer's now interested face.

"A fight? Between those lovebirds?" He began, pausing to take another sip of his tea. "Wonder what set them off."

"He said something about work."

"Work? Are you kidding me? I mean Fred'll get pissed at anything but Bret? He seems like such a calm guy, why would that set him off?"

John merely shrugged, silently agreeing with his statement about Bret's overall personality. However much he wanted to hate every inch of that boy's being, he couldn't disagree with the fact that he was a likeable character. But just because he was a nice person that didn't mean he had to be his friend.

"How the hell would I know. Not like I'm over there watching whatever the hell they're doing." John grumbled, dreading the fact that Roger was once again trying to get their conversations back onto relationships and once again on their frontman's.

"He should really try going back to sleep. The poor thing's just got sick in there and I bet he'll be up in a few hours playing the piano, insisting that he's perfectly fine." John began, wanting to get off the conversation regarding Freddie's own lover and just the overall concept of relationships again. The last thing he needed before going to bed was the reminder that he was happy with someone else and he'd still be alone.

"That much he would be. Hell he'd go perform a concert with a broken leg if he had to."

"He'd sing if he was dying, we know that much. Sleep must be so boring to him, regardless of whatever slips into his dreams." He replied, turning onto his stomach and placing his arms on top of the arm of the couch and resting his head against them. The bathroom door reopened as they heard Freddie let out a long, quiet groan as he shuffled back into his bedroom, softly closing his door afterwards.

Roger snickered into his drink, humming an innocent little tune afterwards. "We know full well what slips into your dreams."

"Do not bring that up." John reminded, unable to fight back a small smirk at Roger's constant giggling at the earlier event.

"Oh yes, like that wasn't a show. Honestly, I thought you were having a nightmare when I first walked in."

I've had those before, thanks for walking in then.

"Oh come off it John, as said we've all had 'em. Though I doubt any of us have moaned out Freddie's name during one."

With that one sentence, everything seemed to stop around him. He looked up at their drummer, his heart beating fast against his throat as all the breath was suddenly knocked out of him, his stomach twisting around inside of him as he looked at his playful gaze while his showed off a mixture of shock, horror, disbelief, and helplessness all at the same time.

"If I must say this, that's certainly one way to find out who you fancy."

No, no no no...God no. This isn't happening, surely he didn't hear you, hell surely you didn't fucking moan his name...

"F-fancy? Of course not...He-he's got a boyfriend." John stammered after getting over the initial trauma, giving a nervous smile afterwards to try and wipe the sly grin off of Roger's face, but instead watched it grow wider as he narrowed his eyes.

"Yes that much is true but Brian had a girlfriend a year before we got together and I still fancied him. Come on John, it's a dream fueled by lust, we all have it at some point-"

"Lust?" He seethed. How on earth could he think that that's all he felt towards him? Yes, getting into his pants was something that he certainly wanted to do, but that was just one part to the grand scheme of it all. He was absolutely head over heels for that boy. Just speaking to him made him feel as though nothing could go wrong, like everything would be okay if he did come out to him and even the world. Freddie, with that soothing voice that could calm him no matter how he was feeling, his absolutely gorgeous features that made him look unquestionably perfect, just everything that he was, said, or did made his body and mind go mental. He wanted to share everything with him and to let him know about the pure love he felt at the deepest parts of his heart for him that had not dwindled once over the years.

"Lust?" He repeated, pushing himself up and leaning back onto his knees, slamming his hands down onto the arm of the couch and glaring at the stunned face of the older man. "I've adored that boy for so long...So fucking long. You had to sit there for a year while Brian swooned over some broad you didn't know. Imagine having to do that for six years. Having to see him with someone else or alone and missing chance after chance to be with him because he'd latch onto a new person if the last one didn't work out and fall in love almost instantly. Having to sit there day in and day out while he's completely infatuated with someone who you know you don't compare to. Having to watch everyone else around you be completely happy with someone else while you sit there every single night without someone to share it with..." He grieved, falling back down to the couch, burying his face into his arms and letting out a shaky sigh, silently cursing himself for bombarding their drummer with even more of his problems just because he playfully told him what he had heard.

He felt Roger's hand on his right arm, the soft thud of his cup being placed on the table soon following. "J-John I didn't mean-"

"Imagine being so unbelievably in love with someone for so long...I had a girlfriend ages ago but hell that was worse than a friendship and I couldn't try that again. It'd be another slap in my face, life telling me that you're not what society desired you to be and that any other attempt would just be another relationship doomed to fail. I just despised relationships for years after that, found the mere idea of romance sickening. But then he came along...Completely crushing that ideology with the simplest of smiles. I've wanted someone forever; I've wanted him for years..."

He looked over at the older man, seeing the sympathy stir within his gaze as he continued to stroke the side of his arm.

"I want what you have with Brian. What you guys have had for nearly a decade. I want that with Freddie so...so badly that you can't even imagine what I feel towards him. I couldn't care less about lust. I just want to be happy with him..." He sobbed, a small collection of tears forming in the corners of his eyes as the realization of just how lonely and pitiful he sounded became abundantly clear to him.

"Oh John..." Roger whispered as he stared blankly at the wall in front of him, the mere idea of just holding his years long crush in his arms making his already aching heart wince at the harsh blow.

"P-please don't think that that's all I want to do. God, like I want to just sleep with him and then abandon him a-after that."

"N-no, I don't. I'm sorry, I was just joking around." Roger apologized.

"He's the only one who's ever done this to me and...And I can't say anything to him. I m-missed it a-again...I wanted him and I was being too much o-of a coward to come out and say anything. God forbid if he finds out now. What if he doesn't...doesn't like me? What if it's going to ruin our f-friendship? Oh God w-what if he h-h-hates me if-"

"John, don't think that, please. Do you honestly think Freddie would ever hate you because you've fallen for him? We can talk-"

"No." He snapped, "I-I don't want him to know. God, he can't know. I didn't even want you or Brian to know, let alone him. D-don't mention it to them, please." He begged, his voice still shaking as he fought back another sob.

"No...No I won't. God I thought it was just some dream-"

"Oh God no...It's happened before, so many times." He started, ending it suddenly as his voice gave out, his body starting to feel completely exhausted from the small crying fit he'd endured and having to let all of that out into the open at once.

Roger and he remained silent for the next few moments, the only sound being the soft hum of the TV in the background, the voices emitting from it blurring together to one monotone voice to which he couldn't distinguish any of the words. God, he only scratched the tip of the iceberg with how he felt with him. He couldn't even put into words what their singer did to him and his emotions, but Roger seemed to understand, for he no longer pushed for him to say anything and instead kept to lightly stroking the side of his arm and whispered the occasional "It's alright" to try and calm him down.

"I can't stop thinking about him. He's there every second of every day, whether he's actually here with us or out with Bret. I've tried so hard to stop feeling like this, just so that I can move on and find someone who I can actually have."

"We don't have that power, sadly." Roger soothed, "If we did I probably wouldn't have stuck with my hopes that Brian and Jane would split up."

"But that's it! They did split up a year after or however long and you've the confidence to come out without any problems if you did so! Hell all of you had the confidence to come out without a single worry..."

Roger sighed loudly for a moment, turning to look at the TV before continuing his sentence, "But I wasn't the one who asked him. He split up with her and told me how he felt. Yes, I came out to him and Tim at the time, but I didn't tell either about how I felt about him. Hell, he didn't even say anything about his feelings to me. I figured I was just imagining any of the obvious signs that he was into me as well. But he just came in, looking quite upset, I mean he had just broken up with his girlfriend. He sat me down, and spoke to me. Kept stuttering the entire time. 'I-I mean w-well, you s-see, I...I like y-you, not like i-in a friendly w-way b-but like in...in the o-other way.' God what a nerd." He told him, the nostalgic and loving shine lighting his eyes up as he shook his head, turning back to face him. "You'll be alright. Fred's not going anywhere and I'll stay quiet."

He nodded in response, feeling slightly relieved at his response and was left desperately hoping that he wouldn't repeat anything that he had told him to Freddie or Brian. They had both kept their promise, at least to his knowledge, about not telling Freddie about his overall orientation and that was all he could go off of. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to let himself calm down and to ignore the growing pit of guilt in his stomach after he had just thrown all of that at Roger at once. But their drummer remained silent, not pursuing anymore and not even doing anything else but sitting there while he let him continue to try and soothe his nerves as he listened to the TV in the background, the soft noise and touch soon lulling him into a long slumber.