(no subject)
Brian and John were best friends. It didn’t looked like that at first sight, but they were. Both being shy and more erased, they quickly found in each other support. And, as being best friends, they had no real secrets towards each others.
John knew Brian had fallen for Freddie the really first time he had seen the singer’s exotic gaze.
And Brian knew John had fallen for a certain blond drummer.
The could talk all night long like schoolgirls of their crushes, noticing every tiny details Freddie and Roger made that were sooooo daaaaaaaamn cuuuuuuuuuute.
And if there was something neither Brian nor John had seen come, it was that.
-John? John why are you crying?
-M not crying.
Brian sat in front of him, his chin cupped in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.
-What happened? Said Brian, soothingly.
John tried to take a deep breath but resulted in many little inspiration cut by sobs.
-I’ve… walked on… Freddie and Roggie… kissing goodbye.
Brian looked like he had been electrified.
-What?
-You heard me!
-It… can’t be possibly… happening…
-I swear…
Brian became deadly serious.
-John, dry those tears right now.
John startled at the strict attitude of Brian.
-Wha?
-We’re gonna fight! They CAN’T be together. C’mon Deaky! They can’t love each other, they’re too much alike.
John blinked.
-How can you be so sure, they’re best friends and-
-John, we’re best friends, and I’m not planning to fuck you.
John and Brian didn’t knew what to do.
They had confronted Freddie and Roger on what John had seen. The blonde and the dark blushed, confirmed, and now, it was worse. The little “”””pretty””””” couple was kissing and making out in front of two suicidal musicians.
-Brian, that idea ‘Talking to them?’ was SHIT!
-‘Know. Sobbed Brian.
Freddie and Roger chose this moment to walk in, Roger’s hand down Freddie’s back trousers’ pocket.
-So how are you darlings? Said Freddie in a too-much-cheerful tone that was breaking what was left of Brian’s heart.
-I’M FIIIIIIIIIINE! Wailed Brian, rushing into his room, slamming the door, leaving John alone in the living room with THE couple-from-hell.
-What does Elizabeth has today? Enquired Freddie.
John didn’t knew what answer.
Brian was dying for Freddie, you needed to be blind to be oblivious at.
But Roger was indeed blind for those kind of things - John had talked so long of ‘how cute was Roggie’s way to be sooo unaware of everything that didn’t included banging <3’ - and Freddie was way to engrossed in his new romance to notice that a certain guitarist would have burn his Red himself to reach a loving gaze from those exotic’s eyes.
-I think he’s… tired?
-Oh poor dear…
-Well, he’s single, he had no reason to be. Chuckled Roger.
Freddie slapped Roger’s shoulder, but was clearly agreeing with him.
There wasn’t John-and-Bri’s-special-nights-to-talk-about-their-secret-loves-while-eating-muffins anymore.
The nights Roger and Freddie weren’t fucking - almost never - John would pick into Brian’s room to cry his heart out and vice-versa.
Brian had his fingers stuck into his ears, mumbling dirty words he didn’t even know but had heard Roger said once, when he had crushed his car into a wall. But nothing seemed to do the job, he was still hearing Freddie’s half-bitten moans, or Freddie’s cries, or Freddie’s screams, or-
-Bri? Want some tea? The bassist mouthed.
The guitarist got up, glancing with desperation at the wall that was separating him from his lovely Freddie and that Roger-bastard.
They haven’t sat at the kitchen table that Roger came, himself more or less carefully wrapped in one of Freddie-so-soft housecoats. Brian hated him instantly for that, but even more after Roger stated his desires.
-John, could you give me a glass of water? Freddie wants to wash his mouth.
Brian felt his eyes filling with jealousy-hurt-sadness tears while John handed him the glass. John had been tempted to say NO, but since he loved Roger, he wanted to please him, and he, of course, had realized that Brian was on the edge to wail - again - and thought the guitarist would rather cry in front of him instead of in front of him AND ROGER.
-There you go, I suppose.
-Well, thanks.
To Be Continued