Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Brian stirs awake, the pale pink sunlight is kind on his eyes, pouring through the hotel room curtains and onto the rumpled sheets. His body feels as if it’s been to war during the night, heavy and sore. In an odd way, it seems to fit this picture of grotesque decadence; silk sheets, the crystal chandelier overhead, the burn of alcohol lingering in his throat… Still, Brian knows better than to think of himself as some ancient warrior, praised with rich indulgences. 

He’s just a man, scared yet desperate to turn his head. Scared because it will, undoubtedly, make the reality of it all sink in, and desperate because he needs to know that he’s not alone. Swallowing hard, Brian tries to focus on his hand which fucking stings, but it all comes back to the man who bit it. 

Brian shifts onto his side and, in that single second, feels how naked he is, how raw. Tears well up in his eyes, blurring his vision. For a moment, he can only see the soft outline of another body, awash in the morning glow. He doesn’t need to trust his eyes on this one to know. 

Freddie’s name is still sticking to his tongue, a blessing and a curse. 

Blinking the tears away, Brian is struck by how peaceful Freddie looks in his sleep. Back in the day, when they shared hotel rooms, he would sometimes sneak a glimpse just out of curiosity and the sight wasn’t any different then— nevertheless, it feels different. As everything does now. 

The last time Brian saw Freddie like this, soft and vulnerable in pink light, they were in the dressing room and he had to pull out his camera to snap a close-up. The urge to do that doesn’t pull at him here. They’re in bed. The only thing that Brian wants to do is reach out, touch, hold, say he’s sorry. 

Maybe he should leave, gather up his clothes and the ruins of their friendship to salvage whatever’s left. The thought hits him, cracking like a whip, making him wince—he hates it. He hates that he has to tell himself that seeing Freddie safe and warm and relaxed was all that he wanted anyway. Because he knows it’s not true. 

Sure, he detests everything about Paul and his so-called ‘friends’ parading Freddie around like a prize to gawk and rip at, sniggering in his ear while gradually guiding him closer to the cliff’s edge; it makes his veins fill with poison, but something about Freddie always had him wishing that he was braver. If there’s anything in this universe that Brian detests more than Prenter, it’s that it took the sight of bruises on Freddie’s wrists to spur him into action... Even then, it was the wrong kind of action.

Brian knows that he should’ve pulled Freddie into a dimly-lit corner and kissed the violet marks. He did it later, but that hardly makes up for the shouting. “ You think I’m just gonna stand idly by and watch this happen to you?!”

Freddie dared to laugh it off at first, even roll his eyes, which sent Brian into a frenzy, “ Don’t give me that! You know exactly where he’s leading you to, Fred! ” Of course, he hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but the hard bundle of anxiety and panic was twisting in his stomach, making him shake in desperation. “What do you need him for anyway?”

The answer was plain and simple, and it was something that Freddie was sure Brian could never give him. 

Well, he was wrong. 

Or, at least, Brian hopes that he proved him wrong. In truth, he hopes that he did more than that. 

Brian brings his thumb to brush across Freddie’s cheekbone. When his eyelids begin to flutter open, panic seizes Brian’s chest, making his breath catch, but it doesn’t last. For a second, Freddie’s dark eyes are swirling with confusion as the clouds of sleep disappear; once they have, he leans to press a tender kiss to Brian’s lips.

It sends a shockwave through his bones, same as the quiet, “Morning,” that follows. 

Brian freezes, his mind reeling trying to catch up to the moment. Freddie’s expression, to Brian’s immediate regret, begins to crumble. In a rush, with his heart pounding against his ribs, Brian grabs the back of Freddie’s head and kisses him. Deeply. Messily. His body, spurred on by fear, acts of its own accord, rolling on top of Freddie. 

Brian’s mouth plants a path of kisses from Freddie’s neck to his hips because, the truth is, he’s far more scared of words than anything else. He can handle even the heavy silences because he can fill those with whatever he wants, groans and moans and gasps. 

But words, words are terrifying.

Words like, “Brian, please…” 

Freddie’s hand is buried in the curls of his hair, but he’s not pulling at it now. The gentle way that he’s letting them slip through his fingers makes Brian’s throat tighten. Even more so, it makes him feel guilty for being rough last night. Rougher than he’d intended. 

His lips could be much softer about this, too, if he didn’t feel like such as fucking wreck. 

Ashamed, Brian lifts his head to apologise. For what he doesn’t know, really; it could be a million things, but the sound gets lodged in his throat anyway. 

Their eyes meet, and an intense wave of relief crashes over Brian once he notices the blinding trust in Freddie’s dark gaze. “Please go on.” The absence of a pet name makes the words stick to the air somehow, and Brian wills himself to not think about how the entire world has been flipped on its head. He’ll just want to cry again. 

He doesn’t do well with change, especially not the personal kind. For years, he’s been terrified of someone coming in and transforming him, which is ridiculous because who he’s been all of this time isn’t that great. He's been quite a horrible fucking person, honestly. 

Now, Freddie’s brow finally furrows. “Are you alright—“

Brian cuts him off by taking him into his mouth, trying not to overthink it. But everything is different when the sun is out, he finds, as he worries like mad; worries about doing too much or too little, about how he sounds and smells and feels, but he does it to hear the muffled moans again, to feel Freddie’s thighs relaxed as he idly caresses them with his thumbs. 

He’s never gone down on a man before and yet he thinks he knows what to expect, so he doesn’t stop when Freddie warns him. Besides, he likes this part a lot once he’s gotten out of his head a bit, feeling and hearing the effects of pleasure. Yet he is unprepared for the outcome. 

“Shit, darling, are you okay?” Freddie half-stammers as Brian struggles to regain his breath. 

Brian’s face is flushed hot, his mouth is sticky and he thinks that his tongue might never be the same again, but when he smiles, it’s real as can be. 

Freddie grimaces to amuse him. “It’s hardly glamorous, is it?” 

That voice is so familiar yet so rare these days it makes Brian’s heart ache; the sound of a free, bright spirit peeking through the darkness. He lets himself fall back onto the mattress, tipping Freddie’s chin for a kiss, and murmurs, “I don’t mind it,” against his lips. 

It turns out, that was the wrong thing to say. Frowning, Freddie pulls back. “You don’t mind it. But do you like it?” He’s right; there’s a clear difference between the two, but Brian hates the way he says it, with more than a bit of suspicion lingering in his tone.

“What do you mean?” 

“I thought…” Freddie reaches out to wipe the corner of Brian’s mouth with his thumb. As soon as he’s pulled back enough, Brian’s mouth catches it to suck gently at the excess. Freddie’s eyes widen in apparent shock. “… I thought that you were just trying to protect me. From Paul. That you didn’t actually want me—”

Brian raises his eyebrows, silencing him with an incredulous look. “Really? You think I’d push myself that far to keep you safe?”

“But you would, Brian, that’s the thing, you…”

“What?” Brian demands; the tension in his chest is rising to his throat, making him bite the sounds out as he did the night before. Still, he’s softened when Freddie looks just short of bursting into tears, his steeled expression faltering. 

He cups the back of Freddie’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. “Perhaps that would be the case,” he sighs, keeping their eyes locked, “if I hated Paul half as much as I love you.”

At first, Freddie’s eyes flicker, searching Brian’s gaze as if he’s expecting him to take the words back any second now. Brian wishes that he could repeat them, to let them settle properly, but he’s a bit scared to do so. Words are still horrifying, especially those that carry weight such as this. 

Tears are glistening in Freddie’s eyes now. When he closes them, Brian kisses the lids softly. He spends a minute agonising over Freddie not saying it back until he realises that he can’t; the sobs that are lined in his throat come bursting out, intense enough to make him shake, and Brian just wraps his arms around him. Holds him close against his chest. 

Like this, his hands make up for the mistakes they made last night: Covering his mouth trying to muffle the sounds (which is what earned him the bite, in the end, even though it wasn’t on purpose); grabbing his thighs too hard; rushing when it got really heated because he could not bear the burn. These are things that Brian would definitely do over if he could, but he can’t and that’s why he focuses on stroking Freddie’s face as he calms, wiping those damned tears away. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Brian whispers in his ear, his heart so close to shattering. 

“ Hurt me ?” Freddie croaks, his eyes wet and red-rimmed. “You’ve seen everything, darling, and you think you hurt me,” his voice is trembling, teetering on the edge of panic while shadows conquer his eyes. 

Frantic, Brian presses a hard, lingering kiss to his forehead. “I’ve got you,” he says, repeating it over and over until Freddie’s jaw unclenches. “I don’t want you to cry, that’s all.” 

Before Freddie can say anything, Brian captures his mouth in a kiss, and he pours everything into it; the good memories that reach the surface of his mind, all of the love and care that’s attached to them; all of the promises that he can’t make at this moment but hopes to keep anyway. More than anything, he wishes that by virtue of wanting it so desperately, he can ease Freddie’s pain with this kiss. 

If you know that I’d do just about anything to keep you safe, Brian thinks, then you must feel my love. 

Maybe that’s why Freddie couldn’t bear the truth of it. To feel and to know, at the same time, is always overwhelming. 

Last night, Brian felt things that he never had before, after knowing that he wanted them for such a long time. Because of that, coming apart had been exactly what it’s supposed to be, unraveling to the bone amidst the rush, the pleasure, the pain. For Freddie, maybe that wasn’t anything new, but love… 

Brian pulls back finally, to let them both breathe, and say, “I adore you, Freddie.”

Adore is different, adding to the depth of his feelings; feelings that have grown so loud and powerful over the years that Brian feared they would pour out of him at any moment. Still, as he sees how hearing them changes Freddie’s expression, brightening his eyes and parting his lips, Brian begins to fear them less. 

“You…” Freddie chokes out, “you do?” 

“ Yes, ” Brian breathes, just short of a laugh as he cradles Freddie’s face between his hands. “Obviously. It’s the easiest thing in the world.” Even though he doesn’t mean to say the last part, it’s true, so what the hell. 

Beaming for the first time in forever, Freddie laces their fingers together and plants a kiss right below his ear.  Then he lifts their joined hands, most likely to kiss Brian’s knuckles, but he yelps, “God! Did I bite you?”

Brian chuckles. “It’s alright. It was an accident. You were—“ Heat floods his cheeks all of a sudden. “You were moaning and I was fumbling to cover your mouth and your teeth just—“

“Fuck, I’m sorry, darling.” It’s so sincere, almost a little timid, and Brian’s heart clenches. 

Pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of Freddie’s mouth, Brian looks at him and, once again, assures him that it’s okay. 

“I was so loud, wasn’t I? I mean, compared to you.” 

It’s such a simple question, but Brian can’t for the life of him remember his own sounds; he only remembers Freddie’s, every single gasp and moan and low hiss. It’s quite impressive when you consider the whisky that he can still taste on his tongue. Nothing about Freddie last night is blurry in his mind. 

“Uh, maybe. I don’t think it matters, though.” 

A small smirk curls Freddie’s lips. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I just thought you’d be louder.”

Brian’s mind reels for a moment. The implications of that are hard to fathom, and it makes him feel hot all over again. Baffled, he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Freddie laughs, definitely fully aware of what he’s done. Of course, he has to lay it on thicker now, “You know, from all of the noise you make on stage, it’d only be—“

“Enough,” Brian says, amusement sticking to his voice. “Unless you plan to tell me exactly what you’ve thought about, you shouldn’t tease me.” 

Freddie’s eyes sparkle and Brian loves it more than anything. “Oh, I plan to, my dear… Eventually.” 

“Ah.” So you wanna play that game? 

Come to think of it, they are no strangers to teasing; in fact, they do it on stage whenever they have the chance but they’ve never acknowledged its impact. Same as how they’ve yet to recognise the full impact of this right here: the clothes tossed about the hotel room, the half-empty glass of whisky on the table by the door, and the condom wrapper that fell to the floor in their haste. 

Brian moves to pick it up, frowning a bit as he turns the foil between his fingers. 

The urge to state the obvious is irresistible. “We had sex, Freddie.” 

It does make it seem more real, and the weight of it creeps into the room, making it impossible for them to laugh about it. Sleeping with your friend is a sticky business, even if you’re not in a world-famous rock band with them, and yet lots of people do it every day. For different reasons, of course, but the question always is: Will it be worth it in the end?

Freddie’s lips part, “I know—“ A loud knock on the door silences him.

 “Are you in there, Fred? I need to talk to you—” Paul. Instinctively, Brian wraps his arm around Freddie. “—Your bloody phone’s off the hook. Please.” 

Freddie nuzzles his chest, unable to get close enough, it seems. Brian breathes a sigh of relief when they hear footsteps disappear down the hall. When Freddie takes a similar breath, too, just before their lips lock in another kiss, Brian instantly knows just how worth it this is.