FIC: Champagne Birthday, in honour of Freddie Mercury's 60th!
Title: Champagne Birthday
Fandom: Queen
Pairing: Freddie/Brian
Rating: R for suggestive actions with a champagne bottle
Word count: 969
Summary: Brian thinks Freddie deserves a proper champagne birthday
A/N: In honour of Freddie's 60th birthday! Wherever you are, darling, I hope you're having a hell of a day!
"Not exactly how I pictured your thirty-first birthday, mate," Brian said, peeking around the door frame into Freddie's bedroom.
Freddie harrumphed, drawing the blankets more tightly around his face. "It is an indecent hour of the early morning, Bri, so do us both a favour and piss off."
"It is eleven," Brian countered, walking into the room, hands behind his back and a soft, pleased grin on his face. A poker player Brian was not. "Shouldn't you be making yourself fabulous for your birthday party?"
"Not yet, because I am still asleep, you utter cad," Freddie pouted. "In twelve hours' time I will show you what a proper Freddie Mercury Birthday Extravaganza looks like."
"Last year's was well done, I'll grant you."
They shared a look and Freddie pushed himself up in bed, the blankets falling down about his hips. He wasn't wearing anything on top, and Brian took a moment to stare appreciatively at the way his dark hair settled about his shoulders. The other man caught the scrutiny, and his sulk turned into a smirk before Brian could bother to blink an eye.
"And just what have you come here for, Mr May?" Freddie asked, reclining against his fluffed silk pillows. "You're hiiiiiding something, darling. I want to know what it is."
"I was just thinking-"
"Never a good sign."
"Oh, shut it."
"Astronomers shouldn't be allowed to think," Fred declared. "You lot come up with the most drearily boring drivel I have ever had the misfortune to encounter."
Brian held out his hands, revealing a bottle in one and two crystal flutes in the other. "Good thing I'm a guitar player and not an astronomer, then."
Freddie's eyes sparkled with renewed interest. "Moët and Chandon, love?"
"Only the best for you," Brian teased, holding the champagne flutes out invitingly. Freddie waited three long beats before sighing as if he were being asked to file his own taxes and pushing himself out of bed. The sheets cascaded down, revealing nothing but low-riding plum-coloured silk pajama bottoms. Brian swallowed. Hard.
"You were saying?" Freddie asked sweetly, padding barefoot over to Brian and holding his hand out in a silent demand.
Brian obliged, handing over both flutes. Sliding the bottle between his legs, he said, "It occurred to me that it is completely unfair that you, of all the people in the world, did not have a chance to enjoy your Champagne Birthday."
"You're babbling, but keep doing that thing with the bottle," Freddie said, openly staring at the champagne between Brian's legs.
"Pervert," Brian laughed. "My point is, when I turned nineteen on July 19th, it was a big day. I still can't remember half of what we did that night. It was fantastic!"
"Indeed?" Freddie ran his painted nails through his hair and then held his hand up to examine it. The paint was chipping, and he frowned.
"But you turned five on September 5th, and you couldn't possibly have enjoyed it the way you were meant to," Brian reasoned, and with a grunt, he popped the cork, bubbling champagne spilling itself out, coating his fingers and the bottle.
"I really needn't make any puns at all, do I?" Freddie said wickedly, and he dropped to his knees with the grace of a dancer, running his tongue along the neck of the bottle, catching the sweet liquid in his mouth. "I recall having a wonderful time. I saw elephants."
"You should be seeing pink elephants," Brian retorted, his eyes fastened on Freddie's lips. And Freddie knew it, arching a defiant eyebrow as he wrapped one hand around the slippery bottle neck and slid his mouth around its opening. Brian gasped softly as Freddie began the most impressive blow job he'd ever seen-and he'd been privy to more than a few. A wrist-twisting, tongue-teasing, head-bobbing blow job of positively epic proportions. On the bloody bottle of champagne, and by the way his throat was working, he was swallowing a fair amount of it too.
"Freddie," Brian said faintly, aware of how quickly his blood had collected quite near that champagne bottle, and knowing that Freddie was staring straight at the erection now straining against his tight jeans.
"Mmm-hmmm?" Freddie hummed, glancing up innocently.
"If you're going to do that, don't you think you should do it to something that will respond more than an inanimate object?"
"I don't know," Freddie giggled, sliding the bottle out from between Brian's legs. "You think you can intoxicate me as much as champagne does?"
"I'd bloody well better," Brian laughed.
Freddie poured for them both and they clinked their flutes together. "So this is my belated Champagne Birthday celebration, is it?"
"And if that's stupid, perhaps it's a celebration of an anniversary of sorts." Brian averted his eyes uneasily.
Freddie caught Brian by the chin. "Suddenly shy with me again, darling?"
Brian blushed. "Well, it has been a year since we first kissed, Freddie."
"I believe you should refresh my memory," Freddie teased, "because I don't quite-mmmph!"
Brian wrapped his arms around his lover, flute clattering to the floor and spilling the champagne in the process. He caught Freddie in a mind-numbing kiss, sliding his tongue into Freddie's mouth to taste the champagne mingling with that flavour that was pure Freddie. Walking them backward, he blindly plucked Freddie's flute from his long fingers and placed it on the bedside table, the bottle following it. Freddie melted against him, pulling him down onto the bed and tumbling them in a mess of tangled limbs and long dark hair and moving, gasping mouths.
"Happy first anniversary, darling Brian," Freddie said, as they came to a rest, Brian sprawling out on top of him, stroking his stubbly jaw.
"Happy champagne birthday, my love," Brian sighed against Freddie's lips. "Many happy returns."
Fin