Summery: You and the boys have a horror movie marathon
Warnings: Ya’ll this fics got it all. We’ve got fluff! We’ve got hurt/comfort! We’ve got a little angst! And of course we’ve got smut (18+)! Oral Sex (mostly m receiving but also a little f receiving), sensory deprivation in the form of blindfolds, fear play, restraints, a little hint of slapping, a bit of sub!reader, a bit of denial, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of m/m, i think that covers it
Words:8453
A/N: This is my HalloQueen event entry for @mrbenhardys ! Kyra I have absolutely loved getting to know you and I hope you enjoy this! 🎃💚
Your relationship with Ben and Joe was hard to define. A facebook relationship status update would say it’s complicated. Acquaintances would say you and Ben were dating and that Joe was a close friend. The few friends who knew something about your situation would probably describe you as a lucky bitch for managing to snag two hot fuckbuddies. Which, admittedly, you were. It had started the same as most casual relationships you’d seen before, you and ben and a less-than-sober hookup. It happened on a night out celebrating a mutual friend’s birthday and then it had just sort of kept happening. A tipsy pash here, a booty call there. You fell back on each other after unsuccessful nights out and stressful work days. He never made you leave if you were at his place late and, after a week where you stayed over more nights than you spent at home, you’d ended up having a discussion about what was happening between you. Neither of you was in the right place for a proper relationship. You’d only recently got out of something fairly long term and he was very career oriented, still trying to learn how to mix his professional life with his personal, especially now that he was auditioning for roles in bigger productions. So you agreed to keep it casual and fun. Stress relief he sometimes called it, or distraction or a hundred other innuendos and code names. But no matter what name you used it was exactly what you both wanted: a regular good, fun shag.
The night you met Joe he flirted with you outrageously. Ben had invited you out with a bunch of other friends, a proper piss up to welcome Joe and make up for celebrations Ben had missed while he’d been filming. He was excited for the two of you to meet, sure you’d get along like a house on fire, though he probably hadn’t expected see you grinding against each other on the dancefloor quite so quickly. You caught him looking at you from over the shoulder of whichever friends he was talking to once or twice, feeling suddenly awkward under his gaze and a little like you were in the wrong. Maybe because it had been a while since you’d been with anyone other than Ben and there was the assumption you’d end up in his bed at the end of the night. But you’d reminded yourself that you and Ben weren’t exclusive, just friends who sometimes saw each other naked, and let your attention drift back to Joe. You’d ended up making out with him before the night was done, in a dark corner of the club, hands grabbing at each other, his tongue practically down your throat. That was as far as you got though. He was crashing in Ben’s spare room and you felt just a little too weird about the situation to let it progress any further. At least, until a few days later. You went over to Ben’s with the intention of just hanging out with the two of them, maybe watch a movie or take the dog for a walk. Ben had been so sure you and Joe would get on and you wanted to make a proper effort, have a conversation unhindered by house music and shots and wandering hands. Joe answered the door, explaining that Ben had just left with Frankie and didn’t expect to be back for a couple of hours.
“I’ve just put the kettle on though, do you want a coffee? Tea? Ben’s told me so much about you and I’m dying to get to know the girl who pushed him out of a window.”
“He told you that?” you asked, following Joe through to the kitchen.
“Yup,”
“Well he lied, I never pushed him out of anything. The idiot was drunk and fell out himself. Besides it was the ground floor, wasn’t a proper fall anyway.”
“That’s not how he tells it,”
“No, well, if he told it properly it wouldn’t be half so impressive,” you laughed.
You’d ended up talking for a bit, realising Ben had been right about how much you’d like Joe. The friendly conversation led to picking up where you’d left off a few night’s previous which led to both of you giggling as you scurried into the spare room, shedding clothing as soon as the door was shut behind you.
Ben arrived home and was startled by you, wearing nothing but Joe’s shirt on your way back from the bathroom. The uncomfortable moment was only made more uncomfortable by Joe almost walking into you both, wearing only his boxers.
“Y/N? What’s taking so long? You said you were going to blow me,” his voice trailed off at the end as his eyes landed on Ben.
“Hey Ben, fancy seeing you here in your own home,”
“You’re both getting on then?” Ben’s voice was cheery but uncomfortably so, like he was trying too hard.
“Mmhmm, guess you were right about us,” you said, not quite meeting Ben’s eye.
“Good, I’m glad,” his gaze were fixed on you, completely ignoring Joe who still stood in the doorway to his room, “Just out of curiosity, how long have you...”
“Today was the first time,” you said, equally as focused on Ben as he was on you, “Came over figuring we’d all hang out and I’d get to know Joe because you kept going on about him. Didn’t really expect anything else to happen.”
“Okay, cool. I mean, it’s fine, you’d make a cute couple,”
“Thats not... it’s not like that. Right Joe?” you looked away from Ben for the first time since he’d appeared, “It’s nothing serious.”
Joe blinked like he’d forgotten he was part of the scene taking place, like he wanted to call out to the director for his next line, “Oh, yeah, no. I mean, I’m only here for a couple of weeks and I’m not really looking for serious right now.”
“Cool. That’s cool. None of my business anyway. Sorry, I’ll,” he gestured vaguely in the direction of the lounge room before disappearing through the doorway.
You chewed on your lower lip, staring at the spot where he’d been.
“Soooo,” Joe drew the word out until he ran out of breath, “can I ask what that was about?”
“Huh? Oh um, yeah. Me and Ben have kind of had a thing going for a while,” you walked past Joe into his room searching the floor for your clothes, it didn't feel right to continue now that you weren't alone.
“Shit, really?”
“Yeah but not like anything specific. Just a casual thing. Other people weren’t off limits or anything so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Still feel kinda bad. It’s his house after all.”
“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to convince yourself that was the only reason you felt bad.
“What if we didn’t have to though? Feel bad that is.”
You paused, halfway through pulling your underwear back on, “What d’you mean?”
“What if he joined us,” Joe shrugged as he made the suggestion, trying to seem casual.
“Really?”
“Yeah, if you’re cool with it?”
“I’ll go get him then,”
“I’ll wait here then,”
You crept towards Ben as quietly as possible, almost making him spill his drink over both of you as you flopped onto his lap.
“Shouldn’t you be with Joe?” Ben kept his gaze fixed on the TV screen.
“Wanted to ask you something,”
“What could possibly be so urgent?”
“Do you maybe want to join us?”
“What?”
“Threesome, Ben. You in?”
“Is that a trick question? Of course I’m bloody in,”
You laughed as Ben swooped in to kiss you quickly and then pushed you off his lap, giving your arse a small slap to get you moving back to the bedroom.
“Who’s idea was this?” Ben asked as he followed you back to where Joe was waiting.
“Joe’s but it wasn’t like I needed convincing,”
“Geez Mazzello, didn’t realise you were so hot for me.”
“As if you haven’t been pining over me for months.”
The three of you fell into the arrangement quietly, without feeling like you had to discuss it overly much. It was just fun, after all. You did have a conversation over dinner about limits and likes but there was an understanding that, whatever your relationship was, it didn’t need to be defined or spelt out. You continued to hook up with Ben and, when the chance arose for you to see Joe you would, sometimes all three of you spending the night together. While Joe was away, home in the US, you kept in constant contact. Group chats between the three of you featuring jokes at each other’s expense, plans for things to do next time Joe was able to make it back to your part of the world and outrageously flirty messages, some of them down right filthy. Plus a private chat where you sent each other photos from your beds and lamented the distance between. Ben spent a few weeks visiting Joe and they made sure you knew everything that happened, your phone constantly vibrating as photo after photo was sent to you. The two of them at a baseball match, a series of shots taken while having dinner, a sneaky picture of an unaware Ben getting out of the shower, all of them captioned with things like bet you wish you were here, and better than what you’re eating, and jealous?
You and Joe got closer, despite being so far apart, during a few weeks when Ben started seeing someone else. It came as a surprise, Ben not so much as mentioning it to you until the day you texted to see if he wanted to come over to play videogames, have a drink and make out a bit. His reply felt awkward, like he didn’t want to admit he was with another woman, or maybe you were just projecting your own sudden, inexplicable hurt onto his words. You spent the night talking to Joe instead, wishing he was with you to make you forget the unexpected pang that had hit you when you saw Ben’s message. The conversation, which started with a joke about him no longer having to share you with Ben, carried you through three glasses of wine and ended with you sending him a video of you fingering yourself, only needing to wait about thirty seconds before he was calling for more. It was a good distraction for the night and one that continued regularly for the full length of Ben’s new fling. Eventually, sick of only being able to listen to your moans through the phone, Joe booked a flight back to visit. Once again he crashed at Ben’s place, though he barely used the bed. Even nights where the three of you would hang out together had the tendency to end with Joe following you home.
During his stay you learnt how he took his coffee and which were his favourite snacks, stocking up on all of them. You got used to the smell of his aftershave in your bathroom and on your sheets. And to the sound of his laughter ringing through your rooms. The day you came home from work and found him cooking dinner you decided that meeting him had been one of the best things to happen to you, and the thought was only confirmed later that night when he went down on you. Weekend mornings became excuses to stay in bed, snuggled up together under the covers, dozing between giggly remarks and lazy kisses. Unsurprisingly, Ben was a frequent topic of conversation.
“Maybe we shouldn’t speculate about his bird so much,” you sighed, wriggling further into Joe’s embrace.
“Well if he’d just tell us something about her we wouldn’t have to,”
“You’re right, this is his fault. I bet she’s a bitch.”
“Y/N!” Joe mock scalded, “Our Benny wouldn’t date a bitch. A cow maybe,”
You both laughed, letting the sound fade into silence naturally.
“No, she’s probably terribly lovely.” you said after a pause, “pretty too,”
“I reckon she’s tall. Ben’s got a thing for tall girls,” he nudged you, pulling another smile onto your face.
“I miss him,”
“Great, what am I, chopped liver?”
“Oh shush, you know what I mean. You saw us the other night, it’s different now. He’s more awkward around me.”
“Yeah, I get the feeling you wouldn’t have seen as much of him if I wasn’t here,”
“That’s probably true,”
“It’ll pass. You’ll be back to normal before you know it,”
“Bit hard since our normal involved a lot of sex, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Well, if things don’t get better between you, you could always move over my way. I’m sure we’d be able to get you a job over there. And you wouldn’t even have to worry about a place to live or anything since I’ve got a perfectly good one. Could take my guest room. Or half of my room, I’ll clear some draws for you, save you some space in the wardrobe.”
“Joe...” Part of you loved the idea, the thought of Joe liking you enough to want something more serious made you feel warm and gooey. But you sensed he wasn’t letting on to the full extent of his feelings, something unsaid hanging between you, and you didn’t know what to do with it.
“I know, I know. A bit too serious sounding. But you are welcome any time. We can take pictures for Ben, maybe make him jealous enough that he breaks it off with what's-her-name and come back to us.”
“Sounds like a brilliant plan. If they’re still together at the end of the month I’ll book my ticket.”
You both fell into another fit of giggles, easing the momentary tension that had risen in your chest as he found your lips again.
They weren’t together by the end of the month. It only took a few weeks for the relationship to fizzle out and a few days after that he was calling you again. You tried not to look too happy when he appeared on your doorstep brandishing a bottle of your favourite rosé, a grin breaking out despite your annoyance at his interrupting you and Joe.
“I can come back later,” he said, noticing your dishevelled hair and the robe you’d hastily thrown on.
“It’s just Joe. You can come in if you want,”
He nodded, dumping the bottle on the first table he passed as he followed you to your room.
“Look who I found,”
“Ben! Guess you finally realised how much you missed us,”
“I think you missed me more,” he laughed, things instantly feeling like nothing had changed, “How’s our pretty whore been managing with only one cock to satisfy her?”
“She’s been managing just fine, thanks,” Joe said as he hurled a pillow towards Ben. But Ben caught it, coming close to hit Joe over the head with it before swooping in to kiss him quickly. His smile was warm as he flopped onto the bed, squeezing into the space between you and Joe.
“I did miss you though,” he said softly, pulling you into a deep kiss. You melted into him, your hand falling to his chest, able to feel his heart beating beneath your palm.
“Hey, y’know as much as I enjoy watching you two together, me and Y/N were kind of in the middle of something.”
You laughed against Ben’s lips, pulling away so you could lean over and kiss Joe too.
So it continued. Too many feelings for friends with benefits to feel like an apt description, but none of you claiming more than that. Any attempts to label your relationship only raised more questions until you gave up trying, but it was something none of you wanted to trade in or give up. Sometimes you worried that Joe, living so far away, felt left out, though you did everything you could to include him. But it became easier when he landed a role in a movie that was filming close to Ben’s place. He moved into Ben’s guest room again, this time for a few months rather than a few days or weeks. You celebrated his arrival by pouncing on him before he was even fully though the door, sinking to your knees and tugging his pants down with the promise that he could have you however he wanted in every room of the house. Ben rolled his eyes, dragging one of Joe’s suitcases over the threshold and complained that you’d never made him that offer.
The three of you settled into a kind of domestic bliss. Mornings spent drinking coffee before any of you had to rush off to work. Evenings spent walking Frankie, in a pair or all together, taking her to the park. Nights spent on the couch sharing a bottle of white wine as you talked, or drinking chai lattes as you snuggled close to keep warm. Sometimes you’d curl up in an armchair and doze, listening to the boys run lines together, or to Ben messing around with his guitar, the TV on in the background even though no one was watching it. Weekends and days off spent lazing around the house or heading out together. You cooked dinner together or argued about what to takeout to order, stole each other’s clothes, and sometimes all fell asleep in the same bed, whoever was in the middle waking up sweating in the morning from how warm it got. Fast and needy afternoon sex with Ben while Joe was still on set. Slow and lazy morning sex with Joe when he didn’t have to be in until late. Making out with one on the couch turning into both of them grabbing you, pulling you into place so they could have you at the same time. At first you returned to your own home each night but you gave it up as a bad joke before too long, happier to stay in either of their bed’s, even on nights when you were all too tired to so much as think about sex.
One night, a couple of weeks after Joe moved in, found the three of you huddled up on the couch together watching a scary movie. It had been your idea to have a horror movie marathon. The storm belting down outside set the perfect mood and the idea of cuddling up to your boys was too nice to pass up. Joe had jumped at the suggestion, already listing the movies he thought deserved to be watched before you’d even finished talking. Ben had agreed too, a little slower than Joe but with a joke about how scaring a girl with a horror movie was the number one way to get her into bed. You laughed and let them playfully argue about which of their beds you’d end up in, as you settled into the couch between them.
“It’s gonna be mine, mate,” Ben said, readjusting in his seat so his body was turned towards you and Joe, “No offence but I’ve got the better arms for a comforting cuddle. Also, you don’t technically own a bed here. You’re in my bloody guest room so I think that means I get dibs,”
“Bullshit! If you were a good host you’d let the guest have her.”
“Think I let you have enough as is. That’s my jumper isn’t it?” Ben pointed at the maroon knit Joe had donned as he rushed out the door that morning.
“That’s like comparing apples and oranges,”
“Do I get a say in this?” You asked offhandedly as you scrolled through Netflix.
“Only if you’re agreeing with me,” Ben countered, wrapping his arm around your middle and pulling you tight against his body. The sleeve of his yellow knit sweater scratched softly against the partially exposed skin of your stomach as you giggled.
Joe leaned in towards you, his hand falling to your knee, “Don’t worry honey, we both know you’ll sneak into my bed once he’s asleep.”
There was a little more bickering from both of them, Ben reminding you that you could hide your face against his chest if you got scared, Joe scoffing that it’d be like hiding your face against a brick wall and you’d be better off leaning into him, even as Joe turned off the lights and you turned the volume up, loud enough to be heard over the storm. They both quieted down as the first movie started, though neither of them removed their hands from you. Occasionally Joe would shift his up your thigh, rubbing your skin softly as though he were soothing you or trying to warm you up, and at one particularly unexpected jump scare, both their grips on you tightened, neither relinquishing their hold until the movie was over. As the credits were rolling Joe grabbed the controller, flipping through the other horror titles until he found what he was looking for.
“Found it!”
“Bird Box?”
“Yeah, I’ve been wanting to watch this for ages,” he said, “just haven’t had the chance yet,”
“Ben, have you seen it?”
“Um, no, I haven’t. But I’ve heard it’s good,” his voice sounded thick and he stopped to clear his throat between statements.
“Alright hush up I’m starting it,”
You glanced over at Ben but he caught you, flashing you a smile as he dropped a kiss to your shoulder and then turned back to the screen. You smiled back, deciding he’d only sounded odd from not using his voice for a couple of hours. Only fifteen minutes or so into the movie Ben got up, tiptoeing towards the front door, making sure it was locked, and then heading into another room as quietly as he could. You glanced at his back, but the screen soon drew your attention again, Joe’s eyes never having left it. Ben returned a few moments later with a large soft blanket, throwing it over the three of you as he settled back into place beside you, his arms looping around you loosely once more. During a particularly intense scene his hold on you tightened again, fingertips digging into your skin a little uncomfortably. You lay your hand over his, idly rubbing your thumb over his skin, and heard him release a shaky breath close to your ear, his grip relaxing. As the movie continued Ben tensed up more and more, pulling his feet up under him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. A loud clap of thunder erupted outside and you felt Ben gasp, his chest rising with the sharp intake of breath. You, somewhat awkwardly, managed to bring your hand up to run your fingers softly through his hair, feeling him relax again at the comforting touch, though not enough to look at the screen properly or move out of your reach again.
When the movie ended Joe got up and walked towards the light switch.
“How about I make us all a tea or coffee or something before we start the next one,”
“Think Ben might need something a little stronger,”
The lights flicked on and Joe turned to find Ben huddled up against you. He started laughing.
“Joe! Don’t be mean!”
“Sorry, but you have to admit it’s a little funny. Mr ‘im here with my muscles if you’re scared’ having to hide under a blanket,”
You shot Joe a warning look before focusing back in on Ben, stroking his cheek when he sat up straight again.
“You okay bub?”
“Yeah, sorry, just don’t do great with horror stuff,”
“You should have said, we could have watched something different,”
“No no, I should have gone off and done something else. I’d seen part of that first one already though and knew it wasn’t too bad. A couple of jump scares got me but otherwise it was fine. That second one though, with the blindfolds…” he shuddered.
“Aww, Benny, come ‘ere” you moved to straddle his lap, pulling him into a hug.
You heard Joe scoff but ignored him as your hand slipped over Ben’s shoulder and onto his back to rub soothing circles there.
“Will you stay with me tonight? Don’t think I’ll get much sleep if I’m alone,”
“Of course bub, whatever you need,”
“Thanks,” he gave you a small sheepish smile.
“I didn’t know you don’t like horror,” Joe said suspiciously, flopping into the seat beside you and Ben, arms crossed over his chest.
“Not really something that comes up much, is it?”
“And you’re definitely not bullshitting us to get Y/N into bed?”
“No, not at all.”
“But it is a bit of a bonus,” you laughed, nudging Joe’s shoulder teasingly.
“Good, because otherwise I’d have to be offended that you’d choose her over me. She’s all arms and legs, nothing like as cuddly as me,”
You felt Ben’s hand fall to one of your legs, tracing lightly from your ankle up to your thigh.
“They are very nice legs though.”
“Very nice,” Joe’s hand mirrored Ben’s.
“What are you two doing? I’m trying to be comforting here,”
“Can think of a few ways you could comfort me, love. Both of you. Only fair.”
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as Joe turned Ben’s head, the fingers on his chin pulling him into a soft, warm kiss. Ben’s hands slipped towards your arse, holding you securely against him as you raked your fingers through his hair. Your lips replaced Joe’s as he pulled back, shifting onto his knees so he could better reach Ben’s neck, leaving a trail of love bites in his wake. The longer you and Joe lavished attention on Ben, switching between sucking at his pulse point and pressing your lips to his, the needier he got. Small, contented sighs and hums rose up in his throat, contrasted by how hard he was growing under you. His fingers pressed into you as he encouraged you to rock against him, bucking up when either of you made him feel particularly good, until he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Wait,” he rasped, holding you still as Joe sat back on his knees.
“Tell me what you want, bub.”
“Mouth, please,”
Grinning, you slid off his lap, pushing the blanket aside. You tapped his ankle to get him to open his legs wider so you could kneel between them. Ben groaned when you ran your finger along the outline of his still clothed dick, teasing him a little more before you pulled his joggers down and set him free.
“Don’t worry Benny,” you leaned forward and let a long string of saliva drip over Ben’s cock, “gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget all about the movie.”
He swore as you took him in your hand, pumping his entire length once, twice, before closing your lips around him. You lowered your head until you felt him hit the roof of your mouth and then came back up, tongue dragging along his underside. You didn’t quite let him fall from your mouth, waiting until the last moment to sink back down until he was once again hitting the roof of your mouth. Looking up through your lashes you saw both boys staring at you. Ben’s cheeks were flushed, his hand balled up into a fist, clutching the blanket he’d brought earlier. Joe was looking at you intently, lip pulled between his teeth. He had one hand tangled in Ben’s hair, the other lay still against Ben’s stomach as if it’d been about to slip under his jumper when he’d become distracted. Not that you could blame him.
A loud groan from Ben broke through the air as you came up for a breath.
“Please don’t sto- oh fuck,” he whined as you sunk back down, letting him slip into your throat.
“She is very good at that, isn’t she,” Joe said, blinking himself free of the trance you’d put him under. Ben managed to choke out a noise that sounded like agreement, but he was much too distracted to articulate anything properly.
You pulled up again, stroking him in the absence of your mouth, as you gave your jaw a moment to relax, relishing the way he whined so needily.
“Go on, keep going,” Joe palmed at the front of his own pants, “not very nice to make the poor boy wait,”
“Hmm, funny how I’m doing all the work here,”
“You don’t need my help, princess, got it completely under control,”
“That’s true,” you chuckled, lightly squeezing Ben’s balls and making him gasp, just to prove it.
“Babe, as fun as listening to you and Joe talk is, you’ve started something and I need you to finish it.”
“Sorry bub,” you giggled, dropping a kiss to his thigh and then another to his cock.
Joe leaned his head on Ben’s shoulder, settling in to watch the show and you once again stretched your mouth around Ben, taking him as deep as you were able. You put everything you had into the blowjob, using everything you knew about Ben to drive him towards his release. His pretty moans only rose in volume as you bobbed up and down, swirling your tongue over his tip, gagging as you took him deep. Hollowed cheeks and cupped balls, finger nails lightly running along the spots you knew were most sensitive. You could hear Joe, cooing at Ben, telling him how lovely he sounded moaning your name, how hot it was to watch, encouraging him.
“Gonna cum for us? Gonna show Y/N how much you like her mouth wrapped around your cock? She’s been so good. Earned a reward. C’mon, cum all over her tongue, give her something to swallow.”
It wasn’t the first time you’d heard one of your boys encourage the other to finish in or on you, but it still hit you hard, making you feel more aroused than you already were. You hummed around his cock, trying to convey your own encouragement wordlessly, the vibrations enough to push him over the edge.
Ben swore as he came, rutting into your mouth as you milked every drop from him, Joe praising him and you softly.
You stood up, stretching with a small moan before reclaiming your place on Ben’s lap, “how was that? Feel better?”
“Mmhmm, much,” he said, lips bitten and eyes soft, fingers dropping to your knee, rubbing at the indent the carpet had made.
“Good,” you leaned forward with the intention of kissing Ben but Joe stopped you, taking you by the chin, his thumb skimming over the corner of your mouth.
“Missed some,” he said, dragging his thumb over your lip. It tasted like Ben when he slipped it onto your tongue.
“Go on, suck,” he said, watching you just long enough to ensure you did as you were told before turning to Ben, “y’know, I don’t think it’s right that she gets away so easy,”
“What d’you mean?
“Don’t you want to punish her a little? Give her a little taste of her own medicine?”
“Again I ask, what do you mean?”
“She really deserves some sort of payback for putting you through all that,”
You grabbed Joe’s arm and tugged his hand away, “If I remember correctly it was you who chose the movie,”
“Shhhhh, princess,” he said, covering your mouth with his other hand, almost laughing, “that’s not important. What’s important is that it was your idea to have a horror movie night in the first place. And I’m ready to watch you squirm.”
“I take it you have an idea then,”
“Yuuuup,” he popped the ‘p’, “I’m thinking blindfolds, I’m thinking restraints, I’m thinking….hmm…maybe some edging, who knows?”
“Babe? You okay with it?”
You wriggled on Ben’s lap, trying to subtly relieve some of the pressure that had only built with each of Joe’s ideas, “uh, yeah, yeah sounds fun,”
“I knew you’d be wet for it,” Joe smirked as he got up to retrieve the supplies.
“Hey,” Ben said softly as Joe left the room, drawing your attention away from the doorway, “thank you, for before,”
“It was a blowjob Ben, and probably not the last one you’ll get from me, no need to thank me so seriously,”
“No, I meant for before that. You kept me much calmer than I felt during the movie. Just, y’know, letting me lean on you and the way you held my hand and stuff,” Ben’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’m not articulating it well, but you really did help,”
“Well, you’re welcome,” you pushed a strand of hair behind his ear, “I just did what I would have wanted. What you’ve done when you’ve comforted me.”
Ben pulled you into a hug, arms tight around your back as your head fell under his chin.
“I don’t say this very often, Y/N, but I’m really glad we started doing this. And that we’re back to normal.”
“Me too,” you laughed, “best sex I’ve ever had.”
Ben laughed too, “well yeah, there’s that, but everything else too. I..”
You could feel Ben’s heart beating under your hand, it sped up as he considered his next words.
“At the risk of opening a can of worms… I don’t exactly know what we are or what to call this. But, it… it means a lot to me. You and Joe mean a lot to me. And,”
You waited, holding your breath, Ben’s heart hammering against your palm.
“maybe I shouldn’t say this while Joe’s not around but I… I think I –”
“Found a blindfold!” Joe was practically bouncing as he came back into the room though he stopped when he saw you pushing yourself off Ben’s chest to sit up again, “Am I interrupting something?”
One glance at Ben told you he didn’t want to say any more about it just yet, though you thought you could guess where he’d been heading before the interruption.
“You caught us Joe, took so long we got impatient and squeezed in a quickie. Y’know Ben’s a cuddler afterwards.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” he waved a piece of material in your face, “found a bandana in one of Ben’s cupboards. Not sure why he has one but it’s our good fortune he does otherwise I would’ve had to cut up a shirt.”
“I dressed up as a cowboy for a party once,” Ben shrugged, “never got rid of the costume.”
“Good thing because I’m definitely going to need to see you in it. I feel like you’d make a very sexy cowboy, don’t you Joe?”
“Definitely. ‘Specially if he’s wearing the assless chaps I found too,”
“Oh fuck off, I don’t own any assless chaps and you both know it,”
“But now I know what to get you for Christmas,”
“Don’t you dare,”
“Why not?”
“Cause I already got some for him,” Ben jerked his thumb as Joe, a cheeky smile lighting up his face at the joke.
“Alright alright, enough assless chaps. Only one of us has had a chance to get off so far and that needs to change. So, blindfold.” He held the bandana up and moved behind you, looping it over your eyes and tying it toff tightly behind your head.
“Can you see?”
“Nope,”
“Okay good,”
You felt hands wrap around your waist pulling you backwards off Ben’s lap, feet landing on the carpet unsteadily. Before you’d even balanced yourself Joe was speaking in your ear, adrenalin and anticipation already pumping through your veins making your breath come quick.
“You think you can get to Ben’s room without being able to see?”
You were distracted momentarily by the warmth of Ben’s body pressing close to your front, his hands inching the hem of your shirt up.
“Well? Do you?”
“Yes, I think so yes,”
There was a beat as Ben pulled your shirt off over your head, the noise of it rustling in your ears, your shoulders tightening as the chilly air hit you. You put your hands out in front of you, trying to find Ben and the warmth that came with him, but he was gone, moved out of reach once more. All you got was Joe, making sure the placement of the makeshift blindfold hadn’t been disrupted, and then a sudden quiet as the TV was switched off, whichever trailer had been playing in the background cut off mid-sentence.
“Pants too, princess,” Joe said, snapping the waistband of the flannel pyjamas you wore. You hurried to wriggle out of them, the cold nipping at your bare skin. As soon as you were left in just your underwear Joe took your hand and led you away from the couch.
“Okay, we’re going to go to Ben’s room,” he spun you around once, hands firm on your shoulders, “and you’re going to join us,” another spin, “and you’re going to be quick about,” a third spin, “because the longer you take the less chances you’ll have to cum.” He grabbed your shoulders, holding your firmly while you tried to shake the disorienting dizziness. “Take too long, princess, and you’ll end up completely denied until we decide you’ve earned more.” And then his hands left you, the soft pad of his bare feet disappearing somewhere towards the bedroom, any trace of Ben already gone, leaving you completely alone and unable to see.
You took a deep breath, trying to stop the vague panic that was already welling in your gut. In your mind you tried to conjure the layout of Ben’s house, looking at it from overhead, tracing the rooms from the lounge where you assumed you still were. Study, kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms, theoretically you knew where they all were but you had no idea which direction you were facing, no clue which part of the room you were in. But you couldn’t stand there forever. You’d either freeze or, worse, end up denied an orgasm for who knows how long. You had to start somewhere so you took a tentative step forward, arms held out in front to locate any obstacles you might run into. When nothing blocked your path you took another and another, hoping to find one of the two doorways out of the room. Your ears strained for any sound that might help you, any clue to your location, or theirs. The hum of some electronic left idle, the drip of a tap not turned off tight enough, hushed voices, anything. But the storm, still raging outside, interfered too much. All you could hear was the trees being whipped around by the wind and every so often a clap of thunder. Your steps were slow, careful, deliberate. The last thing you wanted was to kick a chair or a table by accident, or trip over something your outstretched arms didn’t catch. But you knew you were going too slowly. A clock ticked in your head, counting each lost second. You didn’t know how long too long was, five minutes? Ten?
Your hands hit something hard. Carefully you stretched a foot out too, toes brushing against a skirting board. A wall. Your heart leapt. A wall you could work with, follow until you found a doorway. The only question was left or right. You hesitated for a moment and then picked left, just because. You hoped that was the universe or something putting you on the right path, not a mistake. You held one hand against the wall as you walked, trying to remember what objects were against the walls in Ben’s lounge area. There was the TV of course and a large bookshelf. Maybe something hanging on a wall. Or did he take that down? You couldn’t quite remember. You felt more confident, steps faster now that you had something solid to follow. The wall led you to a doorway. You just had to work out which room you were in to know if you were on the right path. Tentatively, you left the wall, counting the number of steps you took so you could find your way back. Your hands waved through the air in front of you, searching for something to use as a point of reference. They landed on a smooth surface. It was large and cool. You had a suspicion of what it was, trailing your hands along it until the feeling changed. You tapped your nails on the new surface, a metallic sound reverberating around you. The sound made you smile, confirmed what you thought. It was the kitchen bench and you’d found the sink. You felt around to double check, finding first an upturned glass and then the tap, breathing a sigh of relief. You knew where you were and you knew where to go now. Finding Ben’s room shouldn’t be any trouble. You followed the bench until it met the wall and then followed the wall to the doorway. From there it was just a matter of weaving through rooms, trying not to bump into furniture. You didn’t even have to stick to the wall now that you knew which direction you were facing.
“There she is,” Ben said as you entered a doorway, “clever girl.”
“Cold girl,” you shivered slightly, the chill getting to you more now that you didn’t have fear driving you ever onwards.
“Think we can have you warmed up in no time,” he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you forward.
“Can I take my blindfold off yet?”
“Silly question, princess. Want to keep you on your toes.”
Joe’s voice was closer than you’d expected, making you jump a little. He pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder as he unhooked your bra. Ben was already sliding your panties down your legs, on his knees in front of you. You gasped when he leaned in to lick you, not expecting the sudden burst of pleasure. It was amplified by Joe, rolling your nipples between his fingers, both of them working in tandem to draw a moan from you.
“Well aren’t you just dripping,” Ben mumbled against you, tongue delving back into your folds, dragging up towards your clit.
“Guess it’s true what they say about fear being an aphrodisiac,” Joe chuckled, the sound sending a tingle down your spine.
“Christ, guys,” you panted, dropping your hands to tangle in Ben’s hair, trying to press him closer.
“Uh uh uh,” Joe tutted in your ear, grabbing your hands by the wrist and pulling them away, Ben wincing a little as you tugged on his hair. He stood back up and you felt yourself be turned around, a sharp slap landing on your backside to push you forward. You hit the bed, closer to falling onto the mattress than climbing in gracefully. But it didn’t matter. As soon as you were down you were pulled into place, Ben climbing in beside you. He still wore pants, though no shirt, your hands running over his chest, feeling his muscles move as he propped himself up on his elbow and leaned in to kiss you. You felt one arm be pulled over your head and heard a click.
“Bastards!” you laughed, “Didn’t have to trick me. Would’ve happily let you cuff me. And why’d you only do one anyway?”
“Well, love, since Joe was so patient watching you be a greedy little cock whore before, it’s only fair that I get to watch him fuck you. And we all know what you’re needy fucking moans do to me, so your hand is free so you can be helpful and wank me.”
You clenched your thighs together, trying to block out the desire coursing through you so you could work out where Joe was. The mystery was solved when he got onto the foot of the bed, prying your legs apart and shuffling between them. You tried to squirm away as he pinched your bum but it only made him and Ben laugh.
“Now, princess,” Joe said, making you twitch as he tapped his fingers against your thigh, “remember you don’t get to cum without our permission.”
“I know,”
“Good. Wouldn’t want to have to punish you, would we?”
“I get the feeling you actually would,”
The tapping turned into a slap, “naughty, might have just extended your denial.”
You groaned, half in response to his threat, half because of the way it felt when he slid two fingers into you, pausing to let you get your bearings before he began to move them.
“So wet, even without Ben getting a proper go at eating you out,”
“You can thank me for it anyway. Been wet since she was on her knees.” Ben took your hand, crossing it over your body towards him. You heard him summon a wad of saliva before he drew his tongue along your palm and then led you to his cock. You’d missed him pulling his pants down, or off, too distracted by everything else that was happening.
Your mind whirred with the mix of sensations, trying to focus and to keep abreast of any changes around you. The ticklish fuzzy texture of the cuff around your wrist. Ben’s deep voice near your ear as he called you a good girl between breaths and pleased sighs, the feel of his cock getting harder under your hand and the warmth of having him so close beside you. Joe’s fingers pumping and out of your wet cunt, the stretch, the sound as his speed picked up, his other hand on your thigh, holding you open, slapping you every so often just to make you jolt in shock at the sound and sting of it. You tried to listen for any rustle of clothing or creak of the bed that might warn you what was to come but it was useless, every shift and adjustment taking you by surprise. Your own breath sped up as Joe fingered you, adjusting the angle of his attack to draw whimpers and gasps from you. And then the sudden emptiness as he pulled his hand away. You whined, hoping it’d make him quicker to give you more, but it didn’t work. Instead you listened as he offered his fingers, coated in your arousal, to Ben. Listened as Ben sucked them clean. Felt the wet trail as Joe wiped them across your stomach.
Your breath hitched when you felt Joe slide his cock along your pussy, your hips rising to meet him each time he nudged your clit. You must have looked desperate, judging from the way Joe chucked. He was sick of waiting but he enjoyed teasing you. Entering you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. It gave you time to adjust to his size while still making you crave more. And then pulling your legs up over his shoulders, changing the angle ever so slightly, making you feel tighter, fuller.
“You okay princess?”
“Mmhmm, please just move already,”
He didn’t need telling twice, holding your legs steady against him as he set a brutal pace. Once Joe sped up so did Ben. He’d kept your movements over his cock slow and steady, not wanting things to escalate too quickly, but at the sight of you writhing under Joe, moaning and panting he couldn’t help himself. He held your wrist still as he thrust up into your hand, taking control. You were glad to let him, too preoccupied with Joe pounding into you, rubbing circles on your clit. Knowing you were trapped between them, being used without knowing if you’d get to feel your own release, only turned you on more. Another thrust from Joe, particularly well timed to coincide with a very firm touch to your clit had you moaning that you were close.”
“Hold it,” Joe grunted, relentless in his movements.
You nodded, biting your lip, unable to form words that weren’t senseless begging. He didn’t slow down or remove his fingers from you though, and, afraid you wouldn’t be able to hold off unless he removed some of the stimulation he was giving you, you whimpered.
“Please Joe, I c-can’t, I can’t,”
“Can’t what, slut?”
“I need to cum, please, please, please,”
You thought for sure that Joe was going to stop touching you, or else you’d fall over the edge without permission, be punished and left without release for weeks.
Instead you heard Ben tell you to cum, voice strained as he neared his own climax. You moaned loud as you followed his instruction, back arching off the bed and toes curling. Joe’s grip on your legs tightened as he held off his own orgasm long enough to fuck you through yours, pulling out and coating your stomach in his seed. Ben finished over your hand within seconds, gasping your name.
You were panting when you felt Ben collapse beside you, placing your cum covered hand on your stomach alongside the splatters Joe had left there. Joe stood up and uncuffed you before sagging down on your other side.
“You can take the blindfold off, love,” Ben said softly as he snuggled into your side.
You blinked at the sudden bright light. The first clear thing you saw was Joe smiling at you, leaning in to kiss your temple.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, great, just gotta catch my breath a bit,”
“Ben, you good?”
“Mmhmm. Give me like ten minutes and I’ll be ready to go on,”
“Go on?”
“Didn’t think that was all you’d get, did you?”
“It isn’t?”
“Ben’s convinced he wont get a wink of sleep without fucking himself, and consequently us, into exhaustion.”
“Besides, you got back to the room really fast,” the blonde mumbled against you, “so if anything you earned a lot more. Like, us eating you out for hours a lot.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, as your boys snuggled closer. Perhaps it was the high you were still coming down from, or the giddiness that came from knowing you’d essentially beaten the challenge they set you, or just the warm safety you felt lying between them, but whatever it was you found your heart pounding as you cleared your throat.
“Hey, guys?”
Both responded in wordless noises to show they were listening.
“I love you. Both of you.” Your heart was in your throat, brain automatically trying to spin a way to unsay the words you’d just let slip. Their silence seemed to drag on for a thousand years as you waited breathlessly for their response. Ben moved first, though Joe wasn’t far behind, leaning over to kiss you deeply, saying the words softly back against your lips. Joe pressed a string of kisses along your jaw, kissing you properly once Ben had backed away, smiling as he said it too.
Roger Taylor during the News of the World era This is my gift for the lovely @asupersonicwoman for the Halloqueen event, I hope you like it! It was apleasure to talk to you these past weeks ♡
The bell in the door rings once, and the two angels look up - a sour trace of annoyance contrasting against their gentle features. It had been two hours of rearranging equipment, scribbling down lyrics and then just sipping tea. After all, there were only a limited amount of ways to retune a guitar and pick at a bass before growing exasperated at the lateness of their bandmates.
Brian feels something shift in the air and John carefully puts down the bundle of wires that he was adoringly fiddling with, and finally, they are graced by the presence of the pair they were waiting for. Well, maybe graced isn’t exactly the best word to describe it.
“Sorry dears, took a little longer than expected” is Freddie’s apology and greeting, and seconds after discarding his long leather coat he is already positioned in front of the mic, moving it around to his liking, undoing hours of setting up Brian and John had so carefully put together.
Brian grabs his guitar and turns to look at Roger who is clicking his tongue like he’s trying to rid himself of a bitter taste left behind.
“Do I care to ask?”, Brian offers
“Trust me, angel, you don’t want to know”
Freddie is vocalizing but leaves out a soft chuckle and supplies the answer Brian was looking for. “He is just upset because we took care of one of yours too.” Behind him John beams and Roger cuts him off before the bassist can even begin
“- we need all the extra rehearsal time we can get, so we figured it would be more practical this way, save you the trouble of going down there yourselves”
John is bouncing a little and his eyes gleam. “See, I always knew there was some good in both of y-”
“Deaky, for the love of Satan, if you finish that phrase I’ll see it myself that you are stuck playing bass in disco music-free heaven for all of eternity”, Freddie interjects.
“Best get to it, then” Brian tries to find peace between them, for strange as it sounds.
But it’s Halloween, and stranger things than two demons and two angels playing music together are happening anyway.
summary || it’s halloween, and, while everyone else has plans, you’re at home, alone, life overwhelming you. there’s only one person who you think to call.
rating || G. so much fluff, and a touch of angst, too. some mutual pining.
word count || 3.2k
author’s notes || and here is my halloqueen submission, just in the nick of time! this is my gift for @celestialmay - i hope you like it! lots of love from 🦇
masterlist
The phone ringing in your ear was deafening, but you held it tightly in your trembling hand anyway. Your chest was tight, each heave of breath in and out like nails down a chalkboard, and everything around you felt both too loud and entirely muffled at the same time.
Pick up. Please.
You could hear kids outside, trick-or-treating. Their squeals of excitement, their boisterous giggling. You could hear the crunch of dead leaves underfoot. The grumble of a car passing down the street.
Still the phone rang.
You picked at a fraying thread on your jeans, fiddling with it like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. It was. As well as the hope that your call would be answered.
The call rang out. An automated voicemail message played in your ear.
Your phone fell into your lap, and you took a shuddering breath, feeling your heart bleeding into your chest.
It was just you and the fraying thread now, you supposed.
Your face felt hot from the burn of tears. It was hard to tell when you stopped crying and when you started up again.
Of course he hadn’t picked up. Why would he have? He had that Halloween party on tonight. He was probably getting ready, maybe, or already pre-gaming. He might not have even had his phone on him. Maybe he just didn’t want to pick up.
You sighed, and pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, watching the swirling constellations of colour dance behind your eyelids.
There was no one in the apartment but you. Your roommates all had things to do, places to be. You couldn’t blame them. You didn’t know if you would’ve asked for their comfort, anyway.
Your ribs closed tighter around your lungs, and you shrunk in on yourself to try to alleviate the pain.
Then – a buzz. Your phone was ringing.
You took a moment to muster the strength to lower your hands from your eyes, but when you saw it was him – who else would it be? – you answered immediately.
You sniffed, and cleared your throat. “Hi.”
“[Y/N],” he said. “Hi, what’s– Is everything okay?” You could hear music in the background, and the hum of other voices.
How the hell did you respond? “Um,” you said, your voice pitched high.
“What’s going on?” he said immediately. “Just – sorry, hang on a tick.”
You heard him say something to his friends, and, a few seconds later, after the sound of a door closing, there was no background noise at all. “Sorry, just went somewhere quiet. What’s the matter, what’s happened?”
You shouldn’t have called him, you knew that. It wasn’t a reasonable thing to do. He was your friend, yes, but you weren’t that close. And everyone knew – but him – that you had feelings for him.
But as if you could have possibly called anyone else in that moment.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I don’t…” You sniffed, and wiped your nose on the back of your hand. Yuck. “I don’t know. I just panicked, and I…”
“It’s all right,” he said, and his voice was so warm and soothing and everything you wanted to hear. “You don’t have to apologise, it’s okay. Do you have someone with you?”
“No. My roommates are all out.”
“Right.” You heard a door open and close. “Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t know,” you said, and, honestly, you didn’t. “I was fine all day, and then I just – I don’t know. My brain started going a hundred miles an hour, and I was thinking about everything, just my life and the future and all that scary stuff, and I – I freaked out, I started crying, I couldn’t stop.”
The background noise was coming back, and your heart sank to your knees.
“It’s dumb,” you said quickly. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll– I’ll let you get back to the party.”
“No, no,” he said in a rush. “No, sorry, just…”
He spoke to someone else again, and it took a good thirty seconds for him to return to the call. “Sorry,” he said. “One second, I’m sorry.”
The sound of a door opening and closing. Silence once more.
“Right, I’m back,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m listening, I promise.”
“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m sorry to drag you away from everyone.”
“Hey,” he said, and it was so gentle you almost started crying again, “don’t apologise, okay?”
Wait – a fresh burn on your cheeks. You had started crying again, after all.
“I’m sorry,” you managed to squeeze out, your voice thick. “I just didn’t know who else to call.”
“I’m glad you called me,” he said. “You’re my friend, and I care about you. I’m glad you called anyone, but I’m especially glad you called me.”
You sucked in a sharp, painful breath, and said nothing. You had nothing else to say.
“Is there anything in particular that made you upset, or is it just everything in general?” he asked.
“Everything,” you said. “I’m just… overwhelmed. And it’s so dumb because everyone else is going through the same thing as I am, like, college and jobs and all that, and I feel so ridiculous not being able to handle it.”
“You’re not ridiculous,” he said. “Trust me, there’s not a single person on this planet who can handle everything they’re going through at any given time. Life is overwhelming. That doesn’t invalidate anything you’re saying or how you’re feeling, but, honestly, literally everyone is on the verge of a breakdown at all times.”
You fiddled with the frayed thread. It did make you feel a bit better, though, what he was saying.
“You’re not alone,” he continued. “Yeah? Not alone. I’m always here to talk to, or your roommates, or your parents, your friends. We’re all here to support you. And it wouldn’t matter if you were going through half of what you’re going through – everyone has different limits on what they can deal with at one time, and there’s no shame if your limit is lower than what you think it is for other people.”
“Yeah,” you mumbled, just to let him know you were still there, if anything.
“People’s brains work differently. You can’t change how you’re wired. And that’s okay.”
You’d stopped crying, and the weight of your exhaustion was starting to settle in on your shoulders.
“You’ll make it,” he added, with such a firm sense of confidence that it almost made you smile. “It doesn’t matter where you end up in life. Doesn’t matter what you end up doing. Your life will play out as it plays out, and I know it’ll be great. Because it’s you.”
You did smile then, and you made a small sound of acknowledgement.
“Hey, which number are you?”
You frowned a little. “Huh?”
“I’m outside your flat. Which number are you, so I can press the buzzer?”
It was like someone put a Mentos into a bottle of pop and then shoved it into your heart. “What? How?”
“The party just at the end of your street; I walked here. Can I come up?”
“Um, yeah, yes. I’m number 105.”
The buzzer went off a second later, and you scrambled up on wobbly legs to let him in.
“Cheers,” he said.
“What are you even doing here?”
“I told you, I was just down the street.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to come.”
“Of course I did. You said you were alone.”
Your throat squeezed shut, and you swallowed heavily. “You didn’t have to,” you said quietly.
“Do you not want me there? I can leave if you’re uncomfortable.”
You hurried to the bathroom to check your face. You’d clearly been crying, but you didn’t look disastrous. Well, any more than usual. “No, no, it’s… I’m all right.”
“I’m almost there,” he said. “Number 102, 103… 105.”
A knock on the door.
You went to open it.
There he was, in all of his six-foot-two, curly-haired glory. He still held the phone to his ear, and he was dressed in black slacks and a frilly white shirt. He had a fake dribble of blood running from his lip, and he wore a cape around his neck.
You giggled, and lowered your phone, hanging up. “A vampire?”
He grinned. He didn’t have fake fangs in, but his canines were pointy enough that they almost looked like real fangs. “Yep.”
You let him inside, and when you closed the door behind you, he swept you up in a hug.
You clutched onto him, breathing in his smell – he was wearing his nice cologne – feeling every ridge and sharp edge of his slender frame. He was so lanky that you could really wrap your arms around him, and you felt like you could almost pick him up.
God, you liked him so much. And here he was, hugging you, despite the fact that you looked like a mess. Despite the fact that your problems dragged him away from his party, he was hugging you.
“I’m sorry you feel like this,” he mumbled.
“Mm,” you said noncommittally.
When you finally broke the hug, he sighed, rubbing your arm soothingly. “Cup of tea?”
You chuckled. “You don’t have to.”
“Sure I do. Cup of tea fixes everything. Go sit down, I’ll bring it to you.”
You didn’t go sit down – you followed him to the kitchen, and sat on the bench, helping direct him as he put the kettle on and fetched some mugs and teabags.
Just him being here was enough for you to forget your worries. It was all painfully domestic – you could almost picture this as the norm, after waking up in bed with his arms wrapped around you. Maybe he’d be in his pyjamas. Maybe his boxers and nothing else.
He more than likely wouldn’t be wearing a vampire cape and a frilly white shirt. But tonight was Halloween, and they suited him, in a funny way, so you weren’t complaining.
The sleeves of you jumper had been pushed up to your elbows – you tugged them down over your hands, pushed your hands under your thighs, keeping your fingers warm. Your feet swung idly.
It was the first time he’d been to your house, you realised. He already seemed at home here.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, handing you your cup of tea. “Or would you rather talk about something else to get your mind off it?”
You curled your sweater paws around the mug, blowing on the tea. “I dunno,” you said. “I’m just really tired now.”
“Do you have Netflix?”
You nodded.
“Do you want to watch something, maybe?” His hazel eyes studied your face carefully.
You nodded again, giving him half a shrug.
The two of you sat on the couch, side by side, a respectable distance away from each other. His cape was folded on the floor beside the couch, and he’d rubbed off the fake blood on his face with the back of his hand, staining it and his chin and jaw pink.
You didn’t want to be a respectable distance away from each other. You wanted to be pressed against his side.
But you were just friends, and not even that close friends. So you stayed where you were.
You insisted that he put on whatever show he wanted. You didn’t mind, as long as it wasn’t something too heavy. He was hesitant, but you could see the way his eyes lit up when he spotted Our Planet, so you told him that that was what you wanted to watch.
You didn’t really watch it, though. He had half an eye on it, but you mostly just chatted.
The pendulum was starting to swing the wrong way again. You’d been so happy to see him, but now you began to realise why calling him had been such a terrible idea: being this near without being able to touch him, to pull him close, was excruciating.
He caught onto your sinking mood soon enough. He gently tried to pry you open, to ask what was wrong, but you kept your lips sealed tight. It was more than generous of him to spend his Halloween evening sitting here with you, as despondent as you were – you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, too.
He watched you carefully. You refused to look at him.
So he told you a story. A story about him and one of his friends. He loved this friend, he added hastily, but they fought a lot. Perhaps too much. But, regardless, they did seem to leave each other.
They’d been fighting one night, at the dwindling tail-end of a party, both fuelled by alcohol, and it had almost come to blows. They had been hurricanes of unfiltered rage, screaming like they’d never screamed before. Most people had left the room, knowing that trying to calm either of them down would have been a fruitless exercise.
And then a third friend had walked into the room to see what the fuss was about. He had been dressed in nothing but his underwear and a pair of socks, despite the fact that it was winter, and was eating a bowl of cereal.
The fight had ended abruptly – so abruptly that it was as if everyone had suddenly dropped dead. They hadn’t dropped dead, but their jaws had hit the floor in shock, bewildered by the bizarre sight in front of them.
The third friend had asked what the hollering was all about.
And then the tension had snapped like a broken guitar string, and everyone had been beside themselves in a laughing fit.
You couldn’t help but laugh yourself as he told the story, painting the scene like an artist paints a picture.
Your tea, half-finished, grew cold on the coffee table. A whale breached on the TV. You couldn’t have cared less about any of it. All you cared about was him, and the movement of his hands, the flutter of his eyelashes as he double-checked his memory for details, the shift of his dark brown curls as he moved his head.
“What were you arguing about?” you asked him.
He went very still, and suddenly the breaching whales were very interesting. “Uh,” he said, “it…”
“Sorry,” you said, your ribs closing in on each other again. “You don’t have to tell me.”
He brushed his long fingers along his protruding bottom lip, and you could see the gears turning in his head.
He looked back to you, but only for a moment, before his gaze moved to his lap, his eyelashes brushing his high cheekbones. “Um.” He took a deep breath. “He was… I got really mad at him because he was– There’s this… person… that I like, and he was threatening to tell them that I liked them, because he was saying that I was a wuss and I was taking too long, and I got defensive, and it just sort of escalated.”
You twirled the frayed thread of your jeans around your finger. “Oh,” you said, and you knew immediately that with just one word, you’d given away your thoughts. It was like hearing a singer miss a note, jarring and painfully obvious.
“I didn’t think that this person could possibly like me back,” he continued. “We’re friends, but we’re not really that close.”
Your finger froze, the frayed thread wrapped around it.
You expected him to go on, but he didn’t.
You dared to glance at his face. He was watching the TV again, a shimmering school of fish.
The two of you sat in silence for what felt like half an hour, but was only a minute, if that. Him, watching the TV; you, watching him.
Your mind was loud, so loud. Three thousand questions scrabbling over each other like starving rats in a cage. The main one was the loudest: was it you? Did he mean you?
You couldn’t answer. You didn’t dare ask.
But you couldn’t stay silent for any longer. “Maybe you should tell them,” you said, and turned to watch the TV.
You could feel his eyes on your face now. “I don’t think I should,” he said.
“Why not?”
“They’re in a bit of an emotionally vulnerable state right now, and I don’t want them to think that I’m just telling them that to make them feel better. Which I wouldn’t be, but their mind seems to be very good at convincing them of things like that. So I want to wait until it’s the right time.”
Your heart had grown three times its size. Surely it must have – there was no way a heart of average size could beat against your ribs so forcefully.
“And that’s all assuming they even like me back. Sometimes I’m sure they do, but other times I have no idea. They can be hard to read. But it’s one of the reasons I like them so much. They always seems to be brimming with so many… thoughts, but they rarely ever tell anyone what they are.”
You finally looked to him, meeting his gaze. “They’re about you,” you said, the word falling from your mouth. “They– A lot of the thoughts revolve around you. Too many of them.”
You could see his eyes darting between the two of yours, his lips parted ever so slightly.
“So maybe you should tell them,” you added. “In no uncertain terms. Just in case they… want to know. For sure. So when they think back on this conversation, their mind doesn’t convince them that they read everything so very wrong.”
He licked his lips. “I like you,” he said. “In no uncertain terms, I really, really like you.”
A child screamed outside. A car roared past.
You barely heard them.
“I like you too,” you said softly.
He nodded, a tiny movement of his head, and then you both broke out into huge, beaming smiles.
You giggled, ducking your gaze, sunshine blossoming within you. It was too much. You felt too much, and you wondered if it were possible to explode from it.
He shifted closer, reached over and tucked your hair behind your ear, and you lifted your head. He cupped your cheek, and maybe it was possible to explode, after all.
“Are you feeling all right?” he said gently.
You leant into his palm, your eyes sliding closed. You nodded, humming contentedly.
“Thanks to you.” You opened your eyes again.
He dropped his hand, but you caught it, lacing your fingers together. He inhaled, just a small breath between his lips that you only noticed because you were watching him so closely.
Without even thinking, you leant forward and kissed him. He kissed you back, just a gentle press of his lips against yours, and then it was over. The briefest kiss, but you felt alight.
You chuckled, glancing down at your intertwined hands. “Uh,” you said. Your thoughts were a blur, and, tried as you did to pluck enough words from the mess to form a coherent sentence, you were left all but entirely mute.
You caught his gaze again, and you were stunned to see that his cheeks were tinged pink. He quickly glanced away from you, clearing his throat, and you giggled.
“Shut up,” he mumbled, and you laughed again, giving his hand a squeeze.
He squeezed your hand back, tugging you closer, and you shuffled over until you were pressed against his side, his arm around your waist. Instead of the frayed thread on your jeans, you fiddled with the frills of his white shirt.
A bird soared on the TV. Your cup of tea must have been stone cold by now. The sound of kids outside had dissipated, for the most part.
You and Brian stayed curled up together on the couch for hours.
note: happy halloqueen to the lovely @picking-up-the-glass ; i’m so excited for you to read this! i know it’s only short, but it’s cute and halloweenie. happy halloqueen one and all! 🎃
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halloween of 1985 was new and exciting. costumes had become more popular and were less about safety and more about appearance. children where running around as early as four pm to cram in as much trick or treating as they could before it was too late. the amount of parents being dragged throughout the neighbourhood was humorous as you and roger watched from your front window.
of course, your house was decked to bottom in as many decorations as you could fit (and what looked presentable). you had hanging ghosts, lights, pumpkins lining the steps to your porch (with a few crowded beside your front door) and bloody hand prints on the window. this display had been up since october 24th, with many children, and adults, stopping and admiring the glowing lights in the dark and the creepy ghosts which swung gently in the autumn wind more often than not.
it was the first year that you and roger had a house. you had lived together before, but that was only in an apartment building between tours and album recordings. after getting married, before even, you had decided to move into a house, a proper house with more than one floor, more than one bedroom and a proper kitchen where you would cook meals for your family of five (or eleven in roger’s mind).
once you were pregnant (curtesy of roger declaring that you had to ‘break in’ the bedroom the first night of officially moving in), the prospect of a large family filling your home was more than likely. after an autumnal wedding, a warm two week honeymoon and starting on moving in as quickly as possible, you were soon close to your one year anniversary and close to your seventh month of pregnancy.
roger wanted you to rest, said that he would hang the decorations and hand out the sweets to the neighbourhood kids, but you refused, insisting that you hung the decorations and atleast helped answering the door. reluctantly, roger agreed, which lead to you hanging off a three step ladder, roger footing it, with a ghost on a string in your hand.
the lights were controlled by roger - but you told him where to put them - while you laced the door in cobwebs before lining your porch with multiple pumpkins. it took a few hours, but the house looked festive. the darkness that had settled allowed you to show off the lights for the full effect.
that was the week before. now, you’re both sat on the sofa facing the window, watching children and parents walk by and admire the house, getting up more often than not to answer the door with a smile and a bowl full of sweets and treats.
the most exciting part was seeing all the costumes. many kids were dressed as star wars characters, or their favourite book characters. there were a few of the typical monsters: vampires, wolves, frankenstein’s monster, etc. you tallied the amount of kids showing up with a white sheet over their head with holes where their eyes peaked through.
it was two. roger owed you £10.
as well as you marvelling at the children’s costumes, both you and roger received many compliments, and giggles, for yours, too. roger’s idea of sticking baby doll’s legs and arms onto a white t-shirt and adding fake blood went down well with everyone. your idea of roger being a bloody chef also went down well, but roger prided himself in the fact that more people complimented you than him.
“i still can’t believe you roped me into buying full size chocolate bars.” you sighed as another bowl was emptied, the door shutting before you complained.
“it’s fine, the kids love ‘em.”
“i bet their parents don’t, all that sugar at this time of night? it’s too much.” you huffed as you collapsed back onto the sofa, a hand subconsciously resting on your growing belly.
“love, it’s only eight o’clock.” roger chuckled as he knelt down beside you, one hand over yours on your belly.
“which means little lady and i should be in bed.” you turned your head to face roger as he concentrated on rubbing circles onto your knee with his free hand. he was glancing between your connected hands and your lower stomach, his mind, obviously, thinking of your little baby inside there.
“if you go to bed,” he looked up to you, “you’ll miss all the fun.” and just then, the sound of knocking interrupted you. roger stood and headed over to the door, grabbing a new bowl of treats before answering. a chorus of “trick or treat!”s followed and roger marvelled at the new group of costumes.
after handing out the sweets and bidding the children a good night, roger shut the door and turned to you. “see, you missed luke, lelia, han solo and chewbacca. that will happen more often if you go to bed.” he jokingly accused you, dropping the bowl onto the credenza next to the door.
“okay, okay, i’ll stay. just for you, rog.” he smiled at that just as another knock came from the other side the door. roger smiled, putting his hand in front of him, gesturing for you to take it. you did and he pulled you up before walking hand in hand to the door.
“trick or treat, uncle rog and auntie Y/N!” two little voices came as soon as you opened the door. there brian stood in his outfit from freddie’s 35th birthday party, fishnet tights and all.
“well, look at you two! don’t you look amazing?” you smiled at brian’s kids, their faces beaming and hands holding their bags tightly. “and you, brian, i love the recycling you’re doing.”
“ha ha, very funny,” he frowned sarcastically, “at least some of were creative this year, did you do this?” he pointed towards the plastic legs ‘sticking out’ of your belly, am impressed look on your face.
“yeh, i-”
“it was my idea.” roger butted in, a proud smirk on his face.
“but i made it. you could not have done this,” you giggled, pointing at your belly. “all you had to do was get some chef’s clothes and put blood on them, i worked with glue.”
“alright, kids, let’s leave rog and Y/N to argue like the old married couple they are, say thank you.” two little thank you’s followed as they each grabbed a treat from the bowl. you all said goodbye before waving them off and closing the door again.
“i can’t wait to do that when lady in here comes along. i haven’t been trick or treating for years.”
