Freddie Comes Out Of the Closet.
per
REQUESTED BY THE LOVELY @curryfreddie
June 1978
London, England
Freddie, John, Brian and Roger were all getting ready for a long game of Scrabble. The boys had all adored playing the famous board game, especially Freddie, being that it was his favorite game. He had loved the game since he was a child, having always played it with his mother and sister. Most of the time, his sister won.
Now, Freddie had had plenty of experience. He knew the secret to winning any game, or at least most games: it was all in the points.
The four gents all got their drinks, got comfortable in their seats, grabbed the big fat dictionary they always kept on the bookshelf in the apartment, and then passed the letter bag around the four of them. Each of them dug in the bag for a good 4 seconds each, each band member pulling out a single letter. One they had all pulled out their tiles, Brian looked at Freddie, smiling.
“Your turn to pick A or Z, Fred.”
Freddie pondered for a moment, deciding wisely. After a moment, he spoke again.
“Closest to Z get’s to go first, darlings.” The Parsi boy smiled, but quickly covered his mouth with his hand. Everybody showed their letter. Brian had gotten X, Roger got G, John got R, and Freddie got a blank one. He looked at Brian.
“The blank can be any letter, Bri.” He winked, which caused the floofy haired man to chuckle, but sigh.
“Alright then. First Fred, then Deaky, then me, and finally Roger.” Brian smiled and put his tile back in the bag, and each of the men followed his action.
Freddie pulled out his tiles first, and set them on his tile rack. He immediately began to shuffle his tiles around. He grinned like a child on Christmas morning when he finally found the perfect word. Once everybody got situated with the beginning of the game, he set his word down.
A M A Z I N G
“26 points, double word score makes 46.” Freddie winked at Brian, whose eyes widened.
“Plus you used all your letters, which adds 50 points.” Deaky said. After a moment of doing math in his head, he threw his head back and groaned. Roger joined in, as did Brian. Freddie only sat in his seat, giggling like a little kid.
“96 BLOODY POINTS AND NOBODY ELSE HAS EVEN HAD A GODDAMN TURN YET!!! Fred, you bloody wanker.” Roger playfully glared at Freddie, who only winked right back. As Brian quickly wrote down Freddie’s beginning score, the young Parsi boy was already drawing his new seven tiles.
After about 20 more words had been played. Nobody had played a word connecting to Freddie’s “G” tile in the first word, and now, staring straight up at him were two letters.
“A” and “Y”.
When his turn came around, he looked between the board and his tile rack. He pondered for a good two or three minutes, wondering if he should play the word. The G was sitting on the “DOUBLE LETTER SCORE” spot (A/N: meaning the second A was on the starred spot), which would mean, if Freddie had played the A and the Y... nine points.
Freddie sighed softly, slouching a bit. He was anxious. The rest of the men had been raised heavily Christian, but then again....
“Not all Christians are arseholes...” Freddie thought to himself. He took a deep breath, then put down the two tiles. He sat back down and kept his gaze downward, towards the bag he was drawing two new tiles out of.
Absolute bloody silence.
“Are you?” Came Brian’s voice through the silence. Freddie hesitated a good thirty seconds before nodding slightly. He braces himself for insults and slurs, but nothing came.
“We love you for who you are, Fred,” Deaky’s gentle, soft voice spoke. “Nothing is ever going to change that.” The long-haired bassist smiled gently, rubbing Freddie’s back as tears began to slip out of Freddie’s chocolate brown eyes. The gentle bassist got up and hugged him from the side. Roger did the same, smiling.
“I’m bloody proud of you for coming out, Fred,” The blond drummer began, smiling as he knelt down beside Freddie and had the singer look at him, “And I want you to know that I fucking adore you for who you are. This isn’t gonna ruin our friendship or anything like that, you understand me. mate?” Roger made sure to keep his tone very gentle and soft. Freddie nodded, smiling a bit as he hugged Roger.
Brian got up and walked over to Freddie’s side of the table. He held the singer close, kissing the Parsi boy’s head softly. The guitarist kept his tone gentle as he held Freddie close.
“I love you no matter what, and no matter who you are. You will always be accepted by the three of us. Even if everyone else isn’t supportive, you have the three of us. Especially me. I truly and fully support you, Freddie Mercury.”
Freddie cried more, getting up out of his seat and clinging to the taller, curly haired man. Brian held him, smiling.
“I’m so bloody proud of you, Freddie.”
