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Finger paint (Brian May x f!reader)

A few days later you were standing in the bathroom of Brian’s house, staring into the mirror as he got the last few bits to start the painting process. You had taken a quick shower at home as advised - yes, Brian did read a book about body painting from the library and told you all the tips and tricks he had noted down. The bikini you were wearing had seen better days, but it was good enough to get smeared with paint, and if it was in terrible shape after the party, you’d just throw it away.

note: whats UP gamers i got this request some time ago and honestly? i loved it. I decided to split it into two parts because i have some NASTY ideas for the smut part but you gotta wait for it for a bit longer cause life is stress.

Warnings: reader is so madly in love it's cringe, the writer of this fanfiction is cringe but free, nasty thoughts

*

Billions of people have seen his fingers work. Rushing over the strings of his guitar, his beloved, plucking them with a sensitivity one could wish for on their skin. Or on the piano, dancing along every chord and note, creating something so mesmerizing and beautiful, something one couldn’t turn their ears away from. A melody stuck in their heads for days, needed to be heard again, just this bit closer to world peace.

And today, you felt his magic fingers on your skin.

Freddie had an amazing idea - a body paint party. How he got that idea in the first place was something you didn’t dare to ask, but hey, a party was a party, and who were you to deny a good time?

It would be a blast, Freddie said, grinning from ear to ear as he handed you the invite. The party was a few days away, but knowing it’d be a hot day, your mind was already going wild. What would you wear? No, better way of saying it, what could you wear? An old bikini where some stains wouldn’t matter too much, but how in the name of everything that’s holy could you get the paint on?

You asked your whole friend circle - everyone was busy that day, leaving you with only one option…

“ROGER!”, you bursted into the room he was chilling in, reading some magazine slop about himself.

“Hey (Y/N), did you know I am apparently into big busty blondes?”, Roger pointed at the article where the writer had described his preferences in women in a weirdly detailed way. “That’s not true, the last one was a big busty brunette!”

“These rags aren’t even worth the paper they are printed on, why do you even read this shit?”, you asked as you fell into the chair next the couch he was laying on, peaking at the magazine title. Yeah, one of ‘those’ rags.

There were a few positives in being friends with a rock star before they had made it big. First of all, you can claim you weren’t in for the money and fame. Second, at this point, he knew half of Britain, so he probably knew someone who could help you with your body paint problem.

Roger and you had been friends for years. You had found him in a dumpster one night, and that would have been a charming story to tell if Roger were a cat. But he wasn’t, so you took him to the hospital, where the diagnosis was simple - too much alcohol. Roger was deeply embarrassed by his university shenanigans which led to you nearly having a heart attack when you found him, so he stuck around. You two quickly became best friends and looked out for each other in every possible way. His friend circle quickly adopted you in, and so did yours for Roger. Your bond ran deep and you could share your deepest secrets with him, all but one.

Brian? The astrophysicist turned guitar god? Yeah, that was a mad crush you developed the moment you saw him for the first time. Roger had invited you to a ‘jam session with the boys’, and there he was, sitting crisscrossed on the floor, a red guitar on his lap, his hair wilder than the thoughts which hit you the moment your gazes met. He offered you his hands for a formal handshake, and from this moment on you knew, you’d need his long fingers on your body again.

As the fame rose for the band, you were watching them from the sidelines. Roger’s success with the ladies was very amusing to you, they were always flocking him, swooning over his every step. Over time, rags like the one he was reading picked up on your existence, and tried to spin a story around you being a secret girlfriend.

Roger and you quickly denied these ideas, Roger even calling you the “girl for everything” in the band, and that you were your own person, not some arm candy for him and him alone. And in a certain way, he was right. They all knew you from before they became famous, so they knew you were legit, and not just here for fame and money. John needed help picking out onesies for his children? You were by his side, discussing how practical certain buttons were. Freddie had an evening celebration arranged but the caterer didn’t show up? You knew your ways around and had one arranged mere minutes later, earning the highest respect from the singer. Roger needed anything, no matter what? In no time, you were by his side.

And then, there was Brian. You did everything for him too, of course, but for him it was always with a bit more carefulness, making sure there wouldn’t be a single mistake. So…how about you’d ask him for help for once?

As this thought crossed your mind, you shook your head, much to Roger’s delight. “What’s going on, puppy?”, he asked as he watched you shake your thoughts away. “Something stupid just crossed my mind and now I feel bad. Ugh.”, you rolled your eyes. Oh! Idea!

“Say, Roggy, are you invited to Freddie’s party too? The body paint one?” “Yes, I am, but I cannot attend. Sucks, ‘cause can you imagine all the pretty ladies there?” “Why are you not going?” “Got a date.” “Aw fuck.” “Why?”

Quick, come up with an idea, “Cause I need someone to help me get that paint on, and I have no idea who to ask. My girls are all busy that day. Now you are too. Who the fuck am I supposed to ask now?” “Dunno. John? Brian?”

“What are you talking about?”

Roger and you looked up as Brian stood in the room. “Where did you come from?”, Roger said as he sat up, tossing the magazine on the ground next to the couch. “I told you I’d come over at 5 to discuss the latest song. You remember?”, Brian laughed as he walked over to the two of you, patting Roger on the shoulder and ruffling through your hair as a greeting - he was the only one who was allowed to do that. Roger tried it once and you nearly bit his hand off. Brian sat down next to Roger, looking over to you.

“True…kinda forgot what time it is.” “You always do Roger. So, what were you talking about?” “Oh, (Y/N) has a little problem here, and I think you might be able to fix it!”, Roger grinned, while you wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole. To hide how nervous you were, you grabbed a pillow to fidget with. “Hm? Tell me?”, he said and gave you the sweetest look and if you didn’t have any self preservation left, you would have thrown yourself at him at this very moment.

“Oh, you see, Freddie’s body paint party…I need someone to help me put the paint on, but I have no one! Rog is busy, my friends are busy too, so yeah.” “Should I help you?”

You looked up from the pillow, silently praying to every god out there that you wouldn’t say anything stupid during the next few, very critical minutes. “Would you?” “Only if you help me too. I also got no one to help me, and even thought I have long arms, I cannot reach most of my back.” “Okay! Then it’s a deal!”

*

A few days later you were standing in the bathroom of Brian’s house, staring into the mirror as he got the last few bits to start the painting process. You had taken a quick shower at home as advised - yes, Brian did read a book about body painting from the library and told you all the tips and tricks he had noted down. The bikini you were wearing had seen better days, but it was good enough to get smeared with paint, and if it was in terrible shape after the party, you’d just throw it away.

“There we go.”, Brian said as he put the box down with all the things he needed - the many different kinds of paint, some sort of…setting spray?, many sponges and a shampoo and shower gel for afterwards. Brian had chosen to wear a pair of shorts, nothing fancy, and judging from the state they were in, they had also seen better days.

“And now we just…paint each other?”, you raised your eyebrows. “Yes, we do. Do you have a style in mind?” “Not at all. Maybe just, dunno, paint a sky on me with the sun and and some clouds.” “And you could do a night sky on me. That way we’d be matching!”

Oh fuck, matching body paints with Brian? Calm your mind, calm your mind…

“How about we sit in the bathtub and paint each other? That way we won’t stain the whole room?”, Brian suggested, and you could only agree. You grabbed a handful of the paints and brushes and sat into the bath, facing Brian. Oh, what a view it was. The past few weeks had been mostly spent in the studio, no public events to attend to. Brian had let his stubble grow out every so slightly, just a faint hint of beard on the otherwise rather smooth skin. It made him look a bit older but also wiser. How’d he look with glasses? How would he look like when he’s old? Would his crazy hair turn white, leaving him with a halo arou-

“Earth to (Y/N), Earth to (Y/N), are you here?”, Brian had been waving his hand in front of your face for a few seconds, and only now you realized it. How deeply in thought were you?

“Oh, I am sorry, was just thinking about something. Lets do this?”

“Sure!”

*

You started out by painting Brian’s back in a dark blue, waiting for it to dry so you could paint the stars and the moon on him afterwards. While his back was drying, Brian turned around to face you once more. “How does it look like?”, he asked, pointing at his back. “Amateur work, but it’ll be fine. I doubt anyone else is going to be in a better shape than us.” “Hey, with you helping me, I bet it’ll be amazing.”

Oh my…

Now it was time to paint his chest. He was so stick thin, you could see nearly every rib of his, counting them down till you reached his stomach. There was this weird type of fear spreading in your stomach as your paintbrush glided along his skin, leaving a trail of paint behind. Brian sometimes twitched when you hit a point he was ticklish at, but soon enough, most of his upper body was covered in paint.

“A penny for your thoughts?”, Brian asked. He had noticed your stares - truth to be told, he was no fool even if social interactions often weren’t his strong suit, but you were making it obvious. And that was something he was glad for, as he was afraid of his own feelings more often than not.

“I was thinking…how good this is going to look like. You are going to be a masterpiece!”, you somehow croaked that lie out, nervous that you’d betray your hidden feelings somehow. The butterflies in your stomach weren’t lying, but it was best to keep your mouth shut, otherwise they might escape.

“Well, love, at least then I might be able to rival your beauty.”

!

What did he just say? In a different setting, like a bar or in the studio, where drinks could have possibly flown already, a sentence like this would have been written off as pick up line. But here? In Brian’s bathroom? In a house you had been at so often, it felt like a third home, next to your own and Roger’s place? “We’ll see about that.”, was all you could get out before you reached for the paintbrush again. But before you could grab it, Brian got hold of your hand, lacing his fingers between yours.

“I meant it. You are so beautiful, and I am so glad Roger brought you into my life. Well, our lives, but I think you know what I mean.”, Brian said, squeezing your hand along this little confession of his.

“I think I do.”, as you squeezed his hand back, a million thoughts flooded your brain. The most prominent one? You were scared. Scared of what was about to come, so you tried to let him down easy - for the moment “But come on, we have to get ready. We don’t want to disappoint Freddie, do we?” “If it meant I’d get to spend more time with you, I am more than ready to disappoint Freddie for once.”

Brian slowly let go of your hand, letting his fingers travel along your naked skin. Little sparks of electricity left behind where his touch was seconds ago, and you couldn’t wait for more. Your whole body felt as if it was on fire, a mixture of desire and the childish butterflies in your stomach doing summersaults. Brian’s hand came to rest on the back of your neck, gently pulling you a bit closer to him - as if you needed any kind of encouragement. “Do you trust me?” “I trust you with my life, Brian.” “Then come here, please.”, and with these words, he closed the gap between yours lips, and for the first time in your life, you felt as if you were floating.

did i leave this on a cliffhanger because i am mean? yes. Will there be smut? also yes.

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