His heart raced within his chest, his nerves were going ballistic, and every part of his body was telling him to just not screw up. All this was going to be was him meeting the other two, yet he couldn't shake the damn feeling of anxiety that was still stirring around at the bottom of his stomach. Roger was still driving at that agonizingly fast pace that was only adding to his overall tension now that he had to worry about him losing control. Even with his occasional encouragements that they'd love him once they'd been formally introduced to him, he couldn't help but feel nervous. He'd never met these two people before, let alone know anything about them besides the fact that one was a guitarist and the other sang. Hell he couldn't even recall their names, even with Roger constantly rambling about them, he wasn't paying attention, his focus was more on not behaving like an idiot or looking like some frantic mess in front of these people.

"Hey, we're almost there, the flat's just up the road." Roger said, snapping his fingers in front of his face to get his attention back on him.

He nodded in response, the anxious pit in his stomach only growing as he sank back into his chair. What if they didn't take to him as fast as Roger had? He was the one who he'd gotten in contact with regarding the ad and he's been the only one he's spoken to over the past week. But these three knew each other for, at least from how Roger's spoken about them, a very long time and he was going to be this outsider coming into this preformed group of friends. He began tearing at his outer coat again, twisting the fabric around in his fingers while Roger pulled up to the front of the building. He barely registered his hand coming down on his shoulder as endless scenarios ran through his head, all ending in some form of rejection or distaste.

"Good lord Deacon you're trembling!" Roger told him, bringing his mind back into the present as he looked over at him.

"Well how else am I supposed to feel? I've never met them before-"

"Come off it, they're great! And they're just people. Besides, you sound like them already. Both are shy as all hell around new people so don't worry. Plus, they're both lovely people, don't be so nervous, they'll like you. Just make sure you don't fuck up the notes when you play for 'em."

"Not helping." He replied bluntly.

Roger shrugged him off before getting out of the car, John finally quieting his nerves long enough and followed his pursuit. He grabbed his bass from the back seat and followed Roger into the small bottom floor and up a few flights of stairs, soon pausing at what he assumed was the door to their flat.

"If you do decide to move in with us, there's two bedrooms for you to choose from. The other we'll just use as a spare for whomever but I'm sure you'll like whichever you select. Neither are too small and should give you plenty of space. Just depends on whichever one you'd want to be in I guess."

The words blurred into the background as he fiddled with the handles of the case that carried his instrument. Roger flung open the door and headed in, soon motioning for him to follow. However, only one person was in the middle of what he assumed was their living room. Whichever one it was; he was lounging around on an old couch with a patchy chair next to them. A slightly scratched up coffee table sat in the middle right on top of a black rug that stretched across the carpet that covered the living room floor, ending right at the border of their kitchen.

"I told you I wouldn't be long." Roger said, "He doesn't live far from here."

"I doubted you'd be long anyway. You always drive like some maniac." The other man said.

"Oh hush it Brian it's not that bad. Least I can drive unlike Fred."

John watched as Brian got up and headed over and stood right in front of him, the slightly intricate and observant light in his eyes making him tense up. He was easily a few inches taller than him and had this somewhat permanent stoic expression upon his face. Instinctively, he felt some sort of intimidation from him as he seemed to look like a person who was hard to please or simply evoke an emotion from.

"Oh, right, Bri that's Deacon. He's got his bass with him if you'd want to hear him play anything for you."

In contrast to how he had looked a moment ago, Brian perked up with intrigue and gave a warm, yet slightly awkward smile in response, sticking his hand out to shake his, to which he responded with a quick handshake before Brian pulled his away and stuck it into the pile of loose curls that sat on top of his head and fell down to just above his shoulders. "So, until Fred gets out here," Roger began as he came back into his view. "Go on and talk." 

Surprisingly, it wasn't too hard to give the seemingly boring explanation about himself to the rest of them. He easily explained his past experience with music and his college studies, to which he felt another pang of intimidation once Brian told him about his rather high level of education in his astrophysics field, but overall it wasn't like he'd imagined. The conversation wasn't plastered with uncomfortable silences though he still wasn't acting as open as he would've preferred, but that was all on him. It felt quite nice, though it started growing slightly tense roughly fifteen minutes into the conversation when Roger shouted down the hall for Freddie to "Get out here and meet their new bassist" to which he couldn't help but feel a nice, accepted feeling spread through him.

"Oh hush up, I'll be out in a second." Someone called from down the hall, "I at least want to make a nice impression."

"You had over thirty damn minutes to style your hair and get dressed!"

"Fuck off! I don't just settle for a mediocrity like yourself!"

Roger huffed, but managed to smile humorously just before he made his way over to the sofa that Brian was laying across on, soon nestling himself next to him and Brian wrapping his arms around his upper body. He watched as a rather warm light came into the older man's hazel gaze as he pulled him closer, the two of them speaking in hushed tones for a few seconds before turning their attention back onto him.

"If you'd ask me, I think you've a good shot with Fred. Long as you play nicely, you can join in Deacon." Roger told him, though he barely registered it as he mind was still focusing on the rather couple-like position he and Brian were still in.

However, his attention was once again stolen as he glanced back towards the hallway as the sound of approaching footsteps made their way through the apartment and it was as if all time stopped around him, Roger's sentences sounding unclear and fuzzy in the background as his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the singer of the band he now desperately hoped would be able to be a part of. Everything in his mind suddenly shattered, completely dumbstruck at the gorgeous person now in front of him.

"Freddie, that's the guy Roger's been telling us about. John isn't it?" Brian said, Freddie turning his gaze towards him and making his stomach flip.

Those brandy colored eyes were immediately filled with interest as he let his eyes roam over him. Each were sharp and clear, trailing over his body quickly and neatly as his pupils dilated almost as soon as they landed on him. Whatever else he could have been feeling, he was easily hiding it behind a neutral expression as he walked over, his nerves going absolutely ballistic so that he now yearned for that anxious feeling that he'd been feeling on the way over here. John finally pushed himself up so that he could at least try and appear confident in front of him instead of further humiliating himself by gawking at him and staying quiet.

He was absolutely stunning. He couldn't believe it. Everything about him seemed was so alluring and captivating. From that mess of loosely curled, pitch black hair that fell down to his shoulders, warm, brown gaze that was making his heart race within his chest, all the way to that rather scrawny frame of his that was hidden beneath a dark blue shirt and white flare trousers. Even when he smiled and revealed a rather prominent overbite with what some would call a jacked up set of teeth, he couldn't help but return a bashful smile back. Freddie too stuck out his hand, delicately taking his into his own as the silver bracelet that donned his right wrist moved down his arm.

"I'd assume you have a last name?" Freddie finally said, adding another soft smile afterwards.

"D-Deacon..." He stuttered out, feeling another hard blush of embarrassment make its way across his face.

"Bulsara's mine." He replied in his low, clear voice that perfectly matched his excited gaze, his mind momentarily forgetting how to speak as a soft sigh made its way out of his mouth.

Freddie looked over to his instrument case. "I'm curious to see how you'll play." He told him warmly, his eyes full of a previously unnoticed encouragement and enthusiasm even though he was still able to hold a rather composed look while he spoke to him, completely contradicting how he was feeling right there.

Without wanting to disappoint, he took the instrument out, check if it was in tune, and played a few random pieces, some he'd made on his own, others that he'd picked up from time to time. No one seemed to object, though he felt completely idiotic while playing without anyone else doing so and the slightly judgmental stares from all of them, especially Freddie's, were making him feel slightly queasy. But no evidence of dissatisfaction was evident on any of their faces. In fact, they all seemed quite pleased with how he was doing so that once those few minutes passed, they all gave a small nod to one another, only Roger deciding to break the silence.

"Well he certainly can play unlike the last guy." Brian finally mentioned.

"And the one before him was a complete prat." Freddie said bitterly, but he flashed a much happier glance over to him, that silvery voice coming out to him and making his heart flutter. "That was brilliant." He told him. "I know we'll be in touch, that is if you want to join still." 

All his words suddenly vanished from his mind as pure joy made its way through his body. A new band to join and the chance to see all three of them again were making that previously felt outsider feel start to diminish. He finally nodded, hastily putting the bass away, and turned back to face them, seeing Roger and Brian now completely locked in a heavy kiss, Brian's hand gently running along his back while Roger viciously tugged him closer.

"Can you two stop snogging for more than five minutes?" Freddie berated, grabbing the back of Roger's shirt and pulling him out of their kiss.

"Oh come off it Fred, how can I not?" Roger responded, Brian now looking slightly embarrassed himself as he tugged at the collar of his shirt as he gave a small laugh at the rather cute sight of the two of them in front of him.

"Right, I think it's best for us to mention something before you go." Brian finally said after the blush upon his face dulled away. "You see, none of us really stick to women when it comes to dating and-"

"You're so meek Bri," Freddie interrupted, moving his attention back over to him, "Basically, none of us are straight."

"Yes you see our lovely little singer and Bri over here take either sex but I'll stick to men thank you." Roger said confidently, though he couldn't help but notice a rather disgraced shadow flicker for a split second beneath that powerful confident fire. "You can go fuck any girl you'd like, though you'll practically shag anything that moves."

"But I've got you as my little devil," Brian jeered, running his hand through Roger's tousled hair, watching Roger give a gentle smile before he buried his face once again into Brian's chest, the latter now looking slightly concerned. "-and you'll always be more than enough for me." He finished, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy before quietly whispering something to him.

"You don't mind, right?" Freddie asked, a sudden insecurity covering his words as he looked over at him, his eyes slightly wider than before and filled with hope.

"Of course. N-no, what I mean is...Yeah, yeah it's perfectly alright with me." John answered, seeing Freddie beam at his response along with the other two looking quite relieved as well.

"So, all that's left is you." Roger began, sitting up from his seat next to his partner.

"M-me? Isn't it up to you t-three...?"

"Well, have any of us objected to you?" Freddie asked playfully, "You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, don't seem too arrogant or showy, and we get along with you. So, there's no problems from us, unless any of you have just been quiet so far." He paused, adding a somewhat scathing glance towards the other two, as though he was challenging them to oppose him. Yet neither did. Both were looking quite pleased overall, even that worrying shadow that had been in Roger's gaze for a mere moment had completely vanished and he was giving the same friendly smile he'd given him back when he'd first met him, Brian giving a similar one as well. He looked back over at Freddie, that nearly puppy-like light in his eyes differing from the calm expression he had been keeping on his face.

He finally nodded, his voice just starting to come back to him as they all gave a round of smiles to one another. "A-and I think I'll take Roger's offer o-on moving...moving in, if you two don't mind either." He said.

"Oh but of course." Freddie replied, laying his hand on his shoulder, his body feeling as though it'd burst from excitement at the touch. "There's definitely a room for you and you can move in whenever you'd like."

John nodded in response and grabbed his instrument's case. He uttered a quick goodbye, Brian and Roger saying one similar but were obviously more focused on each other. Freddie made his way to the door and opened the door for him, his eyes darting away from him and sheepishly focusing on the floor instead of himself.

"Thanks...For the audition..." He told him.

"Felt more like a meeting." Freddie teased. "Not much auditioning going on!"

A hard blush burned across his face as he ran his hand across the back of his neck. Freddie looked back in their flat towards Brian and Roger who were both quietly talking to one another.

"They've been together for a few years now. From what I've seen, Roger just latched onto him immediately and well, they've just been inseparable since." Freddie began, his silence pressuring him to continue with his exposition. "I'm glad they got someone. They work so well together."

"Yeah...Yeah they do."

Freddie continued to stare at them, a painful longingness darkening his gaze as he sighed loudly. "Well then John," Freddie started, the sudden touch on his back making him freeze as he felt it trail to the middle of his back, "Welcome to Queen."

John nodded quickly as Freddie hesitantly removed his hand away from his shoulder and soon closed the door behind him. He fell back against the wall behind him, the thud of his case falling to the ground following as he lost his grip on the small handle. He couldn't believe it. He'd finally get out of that old flat he'd been living in while he was finishing school and would actually have some roommates and he'd been able to find a musical outlet again after giving it up for the past few years. And yet, they all seemed to pale in comparison to meeting that lovely boy. He never could have imagined that he was into guys as well, hell all four of them were, and to finally find someone he could actually fall for was something he figured would never happen, let alone to find someone that he might have a shot with if he ever mustered up the courage to come out. They had all just done so to him without a care in the world and if some day he could do the same, then maybe he could find someone to be with and he'd give anything to make sure it was with Freddie.

...

It was as if that was a lifetime ago. Being unknown to these three boys and hardly gaining two of their respects enough to be called by his first name. But it was from day one that Freddie had been so kind to him. So sweet, gentle, and almost protective of everything he did. He'd encourage him to talk, then to argue and contribute his own ideas, and eventually got him to give his own writings in. Sure, the other two gave some encouragement as well, but Freddie's persistence would always stick out more. Even now, he still felt such a surge of pride at any little compliment that Freddie would throw his way and it would lift his spirits, allowing him to feel as if there really was no wrong in the world, as if this loneliness he was stuck in wouldn't last forever and he'd actually be able to be with someone whom he cared about and would receive that in return.

But now was not time for him to dwell on his own past. No, now it was meant for him to find a way to sneak Freddie's medicine into the tea he'd prepared for him that evening to help alleviate his worsening symptoms. In contrast to what Roger and Brian had both thought, Freddie had given in to the fact that he was sick in less than twenty-four hours. Though he figured the fact that he could barely talk the morning after he had started showing some symptoms, was barely able to breathe, and was throwing back up anything that he consumed probably told him enough that it wasn't 'something he ate' or 'a bad case of allergies'. Now it was a few days into Freddie's illness and their singer hadn't shown the slightest sign of getting better. Instead, the opposite seemed to occur as he grew weaker and weaker every passing day. Roger had continually fled the house with Brian, the two of them giving him enough warning that their singer could be an absolute bear when he fell ill. And yet, he hadn't experienced anything of the sort over the past four days that he had been sick. Yes, he was quite cross and overall snappy, but he didn't act anywhere near what he had been preparing himself for. If anything, Freddie seemed to welcome his help, even though he'd still silently insist that he could do it himself with a wave of his hand if he tried to help him with anything or by disobeying anything he told him to let him try his best to take care of him even though the older man looked as though he'd faint if he stood up to make a bowl of cereal.

He headed back down the hall, stirring the cup of tea to make sure the honey dissolved completely before he gave it to their singer. The door was still slightly opened, not having moved an inch from when he had left last. As he expected, Freddie was curled up on his bed, tightly holding onto a pillow and looking completely miserable. His eyes were slightly puffy and red, his face flushed a light crimson while the rest of him was a shade lighter than usual, and his whole body looked frail to the touch, the lack of a proper meal from the past four days telling him that his body was starting to take notice.

"I've some tea if you want any. The honey's supposed to help your throat and I know that's what you want fixed most of all." John soothed, placing the cup on his nightstand and looking down at him, seeing him flash a grateful look before slowly bending forward, a soft groan of pain following as he ran his hand along his throat.

"Drink some." John said in a motherly fashion, immediately gaining Freddie's attention. "Trust me, if it doesn't help your throat then at least you'll be getting something into you so that you don't starve."

Once again, Freddie groaned at the suggestion, but managed to push himself up against the pillows he'd borrowed from Roger and Brian's room earlier that day, promising that he'd wash them twice before returning them. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his bare, shivering frame. No matter how many times both he and Brian told him that he should at least throw on some pajamas, he just wouldn't. He would shake his head and stubbornly refuse to cooperate with him when he tried to get them on even though there he was shivering as though he was in the arctic. John tried soothing his nerves, just so that he could maintain his composure for a bit longer and brought his hand up to the older man's forehead, the immediate hot touch making his hand wince, knowing that it was probably best he didn't wear any more clothes than what he had on now.

He grabbed the mug from the table and handed it to their frontman, watching him stiffly down a few mouthfuls of the drink before he shoved it off to the side, his face twisting down into a grimace as he broke out into a fit of muffled coughing, a few more tears coming to the corner of his eyes.

Freddie gave a pleading look, his whole expression etched with pain. Please...Don't make me do that again... Freddie's eyes silently begged. And as much as it hurt him to go against what Freddie wanted, he grabbed the few pills from the side table and held them out in his palm.

"You felt a bit better after having these earlier right?" He asked, earning a reluctant nod in response. "Just one last time before the other two get back with, hopefully, some better stuff for you to take."

The older man looked as though he was going to be sick again, the present red on his face drastically paling to an almost white color. He shook his head and threw himself back into the pillows. Freddie rigidly kicked at the sheets again, those irritated tendencies coming back to the surface as he let out a whine of displeasure at the idea that he'd need to eat another thing. But John simply gave him one of the larger pills and brought the old glass of water over to him.

"Please Fred, just take 'em. Heh, think when it's done, it's done!" He pried, pulling a cheesy little smirk to try and get Freddie to agree. "I could try making a thing of soup if you'd prefer that."

Freddie feverishly shook his head, his eyes slightly widening at the suggestion while he finally took the glass from his hand. While he downed the medication he'd given to him, John took one of the torn up blankets off of the bed and folded it into a neat square and laid it against the opposite side of the bed. Everything he was doing was completely contradicting his typical actions around their singer. He usually couldn't form a coherent sentence without breaking it up or stuttering. Now he was behaving like the poor boy's mother: calmly talking to him, making him meals and tea, making sure he was alright, everything. It all felt fulfilling to do so, but at the same time how could he not? All he'd been feeling for the past few days was this growing protectiveness of their frontman, as though he was in no place to do so himself and it had only strengthened now that he was in such a feeble state. The thing was, he wasn't weak, he wasn't quiet to such an extent that he wouldn't dare speak his mind, he didn't lack so much confidence and self-assurance that he would stray away from doing anything that involved putting himself at risk, he wasn't like himself. Maybe it was that contrast between himself and Freddie that he liked. Maybe that's what he needed.

He fell back against the bed, his body feeling painstakingly tired after having been up for so long without any sort of a break. If he was sitting down in the living room it'd be his mind being occupied with thoughts of Freddie's condition and if he wasn't sitting down, then he was trying to help Freddie. Even at night he'd be up so late that it'd rival his nights when his loneliness would keep him up. It gave off this odd satisfying feeling, especially since he had been so used to just sitting around all day doing nothing. But now it just felt so good to relax for once. His head fell into the pillows, his eyes lightly closing afterwards. There wasn't an ounce of spare energy he could use to shove himself up to keep himself awake for much longer. As he began sinking into his long awaited slumber, he felt Freddie's arms around his torso, his head gently resting against the side of his chest while his soft breathing came out in gentle puffs against his shirt. John looked over at his arm, seeing only a remnant of the once prominent bruise and the one on his face had managed to heal just as fast, even with him injuring himself not too long ago. He sighed in relief, falling even deeper into the pillows behind him. He would've moved his arm over to bring him closer, but even that minimal amount of energy he didn't have. Instead, a hard blush spread across his face as he took to relishing in the extra attention and shoving back all the jittery feelings for once now that something was happening with him, even if it was something as quiet as lightly holding onto him and sleeping soundly, the serenity of it all sending him into his own dreamless sleep.

...

"Oh my God!"

A sudden crash jerked John out of his slumber as he quickly blinked the remainder of the sleep out of his eyes. Freddie stirred next to him, his body tensing as his arm lazily moved off of his stomach and fell limply by his side, his other still wrapped around his back. He looked down at his sleeping face, his eyes lightly shut, jaw hanging slack against his chest, looking as though nothing could bother him, even the sickness that was still far too prevalent on his flushed face.

"I cannot believe we used to do this shit every damn day." Roger's voice called out, soon followed by a loud fit of laughter.

Out of fear that they would walk in on Freddie sleeping against his chest, John forced himself out of his bed, hearing Freddie suddenly snort loudly in his sleep as his head fell back against his pillow. He paused to tidy up his slightly frazzled appearance after having little to no time to take care of himself while putting practically all of his attention onto their frontman. Freddie turned onto his opposite side, taking in a loud breath before falling quiet once again just before he made his way out of the bedroom. Roger's cackling still filled their flat as he made his way down their hallway, rubbing his eyes once more to clear out any of the remaining fog of sleep that had blurred his gaze.

"Ooh, maybe we should throw Deaky into his old glam outfits. Bet he'd look just as lovely as he did back when he had that spaniel hair!" Roger jeered, flinging his arms into the air in a flashy manner.

John had to stifle back a laugh at the sight before him, the accompanying nostalgia coming along with it bringing a wide smile to his face. Roger was clad in that old, flowery jacket that constantly drifted between him and Freddie at the beginning of their singing career and a bare chest to go along with his old outfit. Tight black trousers and one part of two trios of silver bracelets donning each of his wrists, one wide ring on top of his right ring finger, and a similar set of long, silver necklaces hanging from his neck as well. Eyeliner and heavy black makeup around his eyes only completed the glam look, the one thing missing being the long length of his hair that he had not too long ago.

However, Brian was more fitting towards their old glam look. Not only was he splayed out on their floor with his bat-like white shirt on with its decorative, wavy sleeves, but he was also adorning his skin tight white trousers and a set of platform heels to give an unnecessary extra two, maybe three, inches of height to himself. While he did not have the winged eyeliner that Roger had across his eyes, his own thick layer of black eyeshadow did draw a stark contrast to what he was wearing. To top it all off, his necklace with its added long, clear jewels that he assumed were mock diamonds sat across his neck, a few hanging loosely behind his back.

"The clumsy oaf couldn't figure out how to walk in those things!" Roger howled again, losing himself once again in his own laughing fit while John could fight his own no longer.

"Yes, haha, laugh at the tall one who could didn't even wear these in the first place while you Rog could barely draw a straight line with the eyeliner." Brian retorted, Roger's laughing fest breaking up as he tried to string together a series of yeses.

"What...What on earth are you two doing in our old costumes?"

Roger wiped a tear away from his eye as he looked over at him, a contented grin stretching across his face. "Bri wanted to screw around back here and he thought it'd be funny to cake ourselves up in makeup and go throw on our old shit from the earlier days just to get a laugh out of it and to see if we knew how to do it all still. Apparently we both suck at it!" Roger managed before giggling softly to himself again. 

He looked over at Brian who'd finally gotten himself off of the floor and was sitting down on their couch. "I'm surprised most of this still fits me. Well, these trousers hardly do. The jewelry and jacket still fits somehow." Roger commented.

"Hmm..." Brian began as he removed his gaze from his own boyfriend and began surveying his own flashy outfit. "I hardly see a difference." Brian finally said.

"Well of course there's no difference Bri! You hardly changed, besides your hair tightening up a bit. I mean you're probably still the same weight as you were when you were fifteen! Of course it's all gonna fit!" Roger replied in a loving, playful voice as he ran his hand through Brian's curls.

"You two don't compare to what Fred wore."

"Ah yes, that giant bat winged thing he wore as well."

"Or the scantily shorts."

"Tight black, gem studded outfit."

"Makeup to make drag queens faint."

"Hair longer than Brian's."

They all lost themselves in another fit of laughter at the thought of their frontman's old outfit choices, making him feel slightly guilty that he wasn't out there to witness any of it. He took a seat on their empty chair and looked down the hallway, waiting just in case he'd randomly start walking down the hall, not a single symptom present on his face. Yet nothing happened. The door stayed slightly closed and the only sound was Roger's dying laughter and Brian heaving a loud sigh.

"So, how's sleeping beauty back there?" Roger asked.

"Freddie? Well..." John began.

"I'd expect you to know, you were just sleeping in there with him."

"W-well...I was tired...I've been helping h-him out for the past few days without much sleep..." John replied, hoping desperately that Roger wouldn't continue with his little observation.

"Has he gotten any better?" Roger asked, ignoring both of their previous statements.

"Well...He's still quite ill. Hasn't done much but roll around on his bed, groan a bit, and take what he could from me whether it be medicine or something to eat."

"He's being cooperative?" Brian asked. "There's a change. He's usually so stubborn about being sick."

"Yeah...He's been quite relaxed about it, though he looks absolutely miserable. His condition's just been getting worse, sadly. He can't or won't talk, won't eat unless I force him to, which I never have the nerve to do, besides it comes right back up within the hour, and sounds like he's on Death's Row at times."

"Poor bloke..." Roger muttered, looking quite grim at his news.

"He's been out for a while and I think it's good for him. Usually he'd be up moaning in pain or constantly writhing around on top of the covers, kicking at the blankets because it's too hot but soon burying himself beneath another three because he's freezing."

"Go on and take a break tomorrow. We'll help out with him." Brian told him, Roger nervously glancing over at him. "Roger, relax. We've done shit to help the poor thing out and he's not being as catty as he's been in the past and what, like that's the worst thing to deal with?"

"I know Bri but still, it's like dealing with a sick infant who won't stop crying."

"Not really, as said, he's been quite calm all day compared to how he usually is."

Roger crossed his arms across his chest and sighed loudly, laying his head back against the cushion of their couch. "I don't mind helping, he just better not infect me."

"Oh hush you germophobe before I lock you in Freddie's bedroom."

...

"I'll be back later on, alright Fred?" John whispered, running his hand along their singer's arm as he gave a weak nod in response. Overall he was looking better than two days prior with a bit of color returning to his face and his breathing not has harsh and labored as it had been beforehand, though he had still refused to try and speak. He figured another dose of medication should knock him out long enough so that he'd sleep through the night. Brian and Roger had been a big help throughout the past two days, giving him plenty of opportunities to just sit down for a few minutes and eat something of his own or just relax in front of the TV set while another took over. However, Roger had run into the problem of Freddie not being as cooperative with him as he had been with himself, the only evidence being a large stain of tea across Roger's shirt and him looking absolutely fuming afterwards in the early hours of yesterday's afternoon.

He gently ran his hand across Freddie's muddled hair, his eyes falling shut as he brushed the side of his hand across his face. In contrast to how he'd been all week, he looked absolutely peaceful now, his heart skipping a beat at the serene sight in front of him. He sighed and stood back up, Freddie's face falling immediately as he tightened his hold on the pillow he was holding on to.

"You're such a mother." Roger told him as he closed Freddie's door behind him. "I'm surprised he hasn't attacked you like he did with me yesterday."

"Well what else am I supposed to do when he's sick?"

"Of course you're gonna be all cuddly and gentle with him, especially if you love him." Roger said softly.

John latched his hand across Roger's mouth, pushing him back to the end of the hall and nervously flashing back to make sure Freddie's door wouldn't open back up. Roger struggled against his grip, finally tossing his hand off of his mouth and glaring at him.

"What the hell John?!"

"I'm the one at fault? You honestly think that saying this is perfectly fine when we're right outside of his damn door!?"

Roger opened his mouth to argue with him again, but clamped it shut right after, looking slightly regretful at coming close to blowing up at him.

"Look...I just, I just really don't want him to hear that alright? Bri's not here is he?"

"No, of course not. He's not going to hear anything. He left not too long ago so we've time if you wanna-"

John shook his head, the memory of his breakdown from that night he'd confessed so much to their drummer was still fresh in his mind. He swallowed thickly, not wanting to deal with any rehash of those emotions or delve any deeper into how he felt about his crush on their singer or any other memories that still plagued his nightmares. Roger's placed his hands on each of his shoulders, adding in a soft glance to try and calm him back down.

"Not now, he could come back home and I don't want him hearing or seeing anything." He replied quietly. "I gotta head out anyway. M-maybe another time."

They stood there in silence, Roger's hands still clasped on each side of him. A sudden click from their front door opening made him toss his hands off of him as he laid against the opposite wall, letting out a soft groan that was barely audible underneath the sound of Brian shuffling inside. He looked up and watched as their drummer's face softened and lit up as he headed over, gently whispering something to his own boyfriend. Brian immediately latched his arms around him, flashing a curious and wary look his way before looking back down at his lover. Without wanting to deal with anymore of their gushing over one another, he made his way over to their door and slipped past the other two, trying his best to block out their quiet conversation between each other. Brian's sudden appearance couldn't have been more helpful since he knew this would've led to more and more of Roger's annoying persistent nature that would come up every now and then that he'd get too determined to get some kind of answer when he knew something was bothering him.

The sounds of the cars that were coming out at this time of night mingled with the branches slightly stirring from the cooling autumn winds was a breath of fresh air that he needed after being cooped up inside their flat for the past couple of days. He dragged himself across the sidewalk, feeling that pit in his stomach churn with a nagging loneliness once again. Dreams of Freddie admitting to him that he loved him or even felt some kind of attraction towards him made his heart ache. What a life that would be. Something to rival the love between Brian and Roger would be something he would kill to experience. He looked up, seeing bustles of friends make their way along England's busy streets and heading into any one of the multiple buildings. Occasional couples came across his sight. Hands intertwined, men and women giggling with their partner, everyone seeming to be perfectly content with their place in life. He had little to complain about, but one of the simplest of human desires he couldn't get a hold of, something that simple shouldn't be affecting his life so much, especially when it was going so well for him. He had money, friends, even the uselessness of fame at his disposure and even gaining some kind of relationship was so inhumanely hard for him to accomplish, let alone truly experience. He knew he could, he felt that sudden warmth and safe feeling every time he was with Freddie. He cared about Roger and Brian too, but there was just something else that came with their singer. Something that made him feel so attached to him. Just something made it all alright. Seeing him would make a hard day easier. He wouldn't want to sleep, knowing that there's just the slightest risk that he'd be away from him for even just a sole second. He'd lay his life down on the line if that meant he'd keep Freddie's safe. There was no doubt in his mind that he would do absolutely anything to just make sure that he too would be safe and happy.

He swung open the door of the nearby convenience store, the soft ding of the bell alerting him and the other few people that were hanging around there. A tired looking woman sat behind the counter, toying around with the loose change she had out in front of her, another younger looking man sat staring at the rows of cigarettes that lined the back wall, a tiny girl clung to what he assumed was her father's hand as they browsed the candy that sat in the aisle closest to the checkout counter, and another older woman was grabbing one of the bottles of milk from the refrigerated section. He was glad no one was approaching him, he didn't need any sort of confrontation now after he had to deal with a small blow to his emotions after walking around the block. He grabbed a few things of medicine that worked the best for Freddie, tossed them into his right arm and held them close to him to keep them from falling. The bell rung again as the man who had been browsing the cigarettes lit one of them just as he was leaving the store.

As he got in line behind the father and daughter, he ran his hand through his hair, trying his best to clear his thoughts and focus on getting back home. He glanced over at the window, seeing the guy tap his cigarette and clear the ash from the edge of it. The stranger nodded towards his right, his face lighting up immediately as he began smiling warmly as he tossed his cigarette down to the ground and walked over to the side of the window, wrapping his arms around some figure that was just behind the edge of the window. He whispered something into the other stranger's ear, smiling eagerly as he tugged the new stranger closer, his face coming into view as a smirk spread across his face as the stranger placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He nearly dropped the medicine he'd been holding as Bret pulled away from the random stranger, whispering something else as the two of them headed out of view, John still blankly staring out the window, completely stunned from shock.

"Sir? Sir? Sir?!"

John shook his head and looked over to the lady who had been trying to get his attention. He apologized quickly and laid the medication across the counter, turning his attention back to see if he had been merely imagining that scene beforehand. But he knew he hadn't imagined it. They had appeared across the street, Bret and the random stranger heading into a random restaurant and only knocking the breath out of his body again. What on earth was he doing with him? Wasn't he working that night and that's the whole reason as to why he hadn't called Freddie and was the main reason behind their fight not too long ago.

"That'll be eighteen-twenty sir." The cashier told him.

He grabbed the crumpled up twenty from his pocket, flattening it out against the counter and handing it over to the woman. His gaze continued to check back, as though he was living in a state of disbelief at what he'd just seen. He took the change quickly and grabbed the bag of medication from the counter and rushed out of the store. He was ready to run across the street and ask what the hell Bret was doing with that random stranger. He'd been far too friendly with him to greet him as a friend. The look on that stranger's face told him that there was definitely something more to their relationship and the other man kissed Bret right then and there! How long had he known that other man? Surely it was long enough for them to calmly show that much affection in public and he knew Freddie was unaware of it all. Freddie...Oh God he didn't know or see any of this. He had to say something about him. Just to let him know that he'd seen him away from work with some stranger. No! He'll think you're lying...Or-Or he'll think you're seeing things because you're tired or something...Oh God what the hell do I do?!

It wasn't just a friend. Who was he even kidding? He'd seen Bret with his friends before and he never met them like that nor was he one to meet his friends with a bloody kiss. But he couldn't be cheating on him. Maybe it was an old lover...Or some kind of cousin that he hadn't seen in a while. Stop lying to yourself John, you know what you saw. You gotta say that you saw him, at least that. Let him have some kind of reassurance that his boyfriend's alright while he's ill. He told himself as he rushed up the stairs towards their flat. John knocked quickly on the door, his body tense as he fought with himself whether or not he should mention something to Roger or Brian about seeing Bret. He couldn't throw more secrets at them to save his own hide from Freddie's emotions if they told him.

"Well that was quick," Roger said as soon as he opened the door, looking as though he'd pass out from grogginess the second he sat back down. "You got everything you need?" He asked sleepily.

"Y-yeah...Just a few new things for him. I-I'm gonna go check on him." He answered, shaking the bag to show the proof that he'd gotten what he needed. 

He didn't give the others a chance to ask any other questions and rushed down the hallway, opening the door as quietly as he could as to not disturb Freddie if he was indeed sleeping. However, that immediate, sick look upon his face was all that he was met with as he walked into his bedroom.

"Hey," He whispered as he sat down on top of his mattress. "I got a few more things to try and help out."

Freddie nodded graciously as he pushed himself up. He groaned softly as he leaned forward, his arms tightening their hold around his stomach as he lost himself in another coughing fit that was far lighter than the ones he had grown used to over the past few days. His own body fell slack at the weak sight of their usually vivacious singer looking so ill in front of him. He grabbed a few bottles of the medicine he'd grabbed and laid them on top of his nightstand.

"I know you don't like taking them but they're there if you need them for the night. I suggest taking the night remedy if you want to sleep tonight without waking up." He instructed as he motioned to a bottle of a red liquid that he had just placed on the bedside table.

He didn't reply, his face still looking slightly unsure and his illness only made his face look even more sullen. The thought of telling him about Bret and that stranger would only harm both his emotional and physical state, especially since he knew his jealous nature would take over and he would try his hardest to go after him. He just couldn't bring himself to tell him about it. It'd devastate him to hear anything about Bret doing something with another man and it'd be even more poignant since they'd fought not too long ago.

"You get some rest." John finally told him, gently placing his hands on his chest and back and helping him lay back down, the back of his mind telling him to throw a clean pair of pajamas on and get rid of the ones he and Brian had coerced him into wearing since these were slightly damp from the heat, but decided against it and let him lazily fall back against the mattress. He got up to leave, knowing it was best for him to try and get to sleep as soon as possible.

"John?"

He turned towards Freddie's raspy voice, seeing him look pained to hear his usually clear, sharp voice sound so broken and beaten from this common illness. He looked up at him with wide eyes.

"H-has Bret called? I-I just want to know if...if you've heard or seen him at all." He said softly, every word sounding harsh and dry, as though it was paining him to speak at all.

He shook his head, bitter guilt immediately building up in his stomach. "No." He said bluntly, a stab of regret hitting his stomach at the sight of Freddie's hurt expression upon his face. "Nothing...He hasn't called or anything."

"Oh...Alright then." Freddie said in a barely audible whisper. He turned over onto his side away from him, his own face falling immediately as he closed the door behind him. The small white lie was already making him regret lying to him even though he knew in his heart that it was right for him to remain quiet about seeing him. He knew Freddie would take it the same way he was taking it. Except Freddie had that impulsivity that would make him lunge at Bret the instant he heard that he might not be loyal to him or it would backfire and he'd be even more emotionally damaged than he already was feeling from the sickness' blow to his confidence.

He walked out to the living room, looking back once more at the dark hallway before he sat down in his usual spot. Brian curiously looked over at him, but remained silent. Roger had managed to drift off against his partner's lap, his soft breathing just barely audible beneath the drone of whatever was on TV at the time. Everyone sat there quietly, John's mind still focused on the events that had occurred over the span of thirty minutes. He needed to do something about it. Even if it was just another confirmation that Bret was really dating another man, just so that his conscious would be quiet about him possibly taking this too far.

...

A soft curse that was promptly followed by the clattering of a few glasses awoke John from his sleep. His eyes barely opened, a small yawn making its way out of him as he stretched against the back of the chair he'd fallen asleep in.

"Oh fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

John looked over at their drummer who was still tightly holding onto one of the mugs from their cabinet. He waved it off with a weak brush of his hand as he laid his head back into the cushion of his seat. Had it all been a dream? He couldn't have seen him last night. Maybe it was just another blond person who resembled Freddie's lover or he had just imagined it all. Sadly, the pit in his stomach was telling him otherwise, the memory of his lie only making it grow wider as he resisted the sudden nauseous feeling that was stirring around within him.

"You alright John? You look kinda sick." Roger told him as he took a seat on their sofa.

He nodded, not wanting to divulge into what he had seen the night before just yet. Roger hadn't told anyone about anything he had told him already, but the last thing he needed was a way to break his trust. He doubted he would even remain quiet. The whole thing wasn't about him, it was about their frontman's relationship and, as much as he hated it, he wasn't and shouldn't be involved in that.

"Come now, something's bothering you." Roger persisted. "You didn't catch what Fred has did you?"

"No...No I didn't. Don't worry, it's nothing big. Just an unnerving dream."

"You're alright though, right?"

"Yeah...Just, just one question." He began, "Is it alright to lie if it means you're protecting them from something more damaging?"

Roger's gaze darkened and his mouth opened as though he was going to ask why he was asking this. He braced himself for any random questions during their drummer's prolonged silence. Nothing came. Roger just tapped his fingers against the mug of hot tea he was holding, every passing second making him more and more nervous that he'd done something wrong by lying to him.

"It...It always depends. But if you think the person in question will be safer for the time being with a lie, then go with it. The truth always needs to come out. But if saying it now would hurt them more, keep them safe and tell them later."

"I just feel like they might get mad if they find out you were lying in the future."

"If they do, explain to them what was happening at the time and why you did. Whatever the reason is behind it, you just need to tell them the truth later. It sounds hypocritical, but I just think it's the best way to do so."

John groaned and laid back even more into his seat and buried his face into his hands. Good lord he could be messing everything up right now by not mentioning something so stupid to Freddie about his boyfriend. It was his boyfriend saying 'hi' to some random person and that's all. It wasn't random dammit! He's doing something with him and you bloody well know he's not being loyal to Freddie. He was doing the right thing, he had to be. Telling him would either hurt him or piss him off and neither will help now. If he really was doing something else, Freddie would find out and handle it then and he could say something then. You want him happy and telling him this would only break him. He's happy with Bret and you cannot go and ruin it based on one thing you saw. Stay quiet and only tell him if you must. It'll save him from the trouble and worry.

"Just know you can talk to me about anything. We're trying to make everything work and as I said, I won't tell Bri about anything between us." Roger commented, laying his hand on top of his arm.

"Everything's confusing. I hate feeling stuck like this." John muttered into his hand.

"Lies are never easy, believe me, I know."

He looked up at the older man. Even without saying it, he knew Roger wanted to know what was bothering him and John was silently, repeatedly thanking him for being able to not pester him about what he'd seen with Bret. He was simply smiling, trying his best to not look as dejected as he must have felt regarding his silence. Tell him another time, at least when you've got another kind of proof so that you'll believe it yourself.