You’re My Home - Bri x Reader
Notes: I’m starting my first series! I don’t have a set chapter number, but it will most likely end up being only 3-5 chapters, but I’m still quite excited. This will switch between the perspective of Brian and the reader. For warnings, there’s just a bit of swearing and mentions of alcohol in this chapter. The word count is about 7k, my longest yet! And, for once, the title is based on a non-Beatles song! It’s a Billy Joel song, and I definitely recommend it. It’s one of my favourites on Piano Man. I hope you enjoy this, and negative or positive feedback is greatly accepted!❤️❤️
“Y/N? Anyone in there?” your friend Angie says, rousing you from your dream-like trance.
As you return to your senses, you tell her, “Sorry, I got distracted. Look at this guy’s moves!”
You motion to a man across the room who has been stepping and dancing to the music, elaborately enough to gather several gazes of bystanders patronising one of your favourite dance clubs, Eccentric.
The two of you migrate across the floor, headed towards the bar, before Angie asks, “Well, are you up for a couple of drinks?”
“Of course,” you say, standing on your tiptoes to see above the crowd. “just let me use the loo, and then I’ll be right back.”
Eventually, you spot the loos; you shuffle through the crowd and pull open the heavy door.
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As you finish drying your hands, you pick your purse up off the counter and push the door open once again. Not to your surprise, Angie is not where she was when you had parted. As you scan the crowd, you suddenly spot her, dancing alongside the disco-man from earlier.
“Angie, what the fuck are you doing?” you shout in her direction, but you got no response. Making your way across the full floor, and back to your friend, you reiterate your statement quietly, “What the fuck are you doing?”
Ignoring your comment, she explains, ruffling the man’s hair, “Y/N, this is John, John Deacon. John, meet Y/N.”
“Pleasure meeting you, Y/N,” he states, softly.
“Pleasure meeting you as well, John,” you respond, slightly frazzled by the closeness of him and Angie, considering you had left her company for no longer than 10 minutes.
“And how do you know him?” you ask, breaking the brief not-so-silent silence between the three of you.
“We knew each other from college, and he’s an electrical engineer, like you, Y/N!” Angie informs you.
“Oh, you’re an electrical engineer as well?” he asks. “Are you occupied?” “Currently, no. I’ve only just recently graduated. Why do you ask?”
“I’m the bassist in a rock band, we’re called Queen, and we need some extra help on sound and lights.”
“Oh, wow,” you say. “Well, I’d be honoured.”
“What do you know about backstage tech?”
“I can deal with spotlights and stage lights, and I can work an equaliser pretty damn well, if I do say so myself,” you inform him, with a little laugh.
“How’d you like to try it out? We’re just beginning to perform more frequently, and I’d love to have you as one of our roadies if you’re up to it. I’ll only have to check with the others.”
Somewhat startled by the swiftness of his decisions, you simply reply, “That sounds amazing!” and move slightly closer to Angie.
“May I have your number so that we can discuss this later as well?” he adds.
“Of course,” you tell him, quickly penning it on the spare napkin Angie offers you.
John accepts the napkin with a friendly smile, and you take another sip of your fruity drink, placing it back on the counter before you step back onto the dance floor to join Angie.
The two of you, a-bit-more-than-slightly tipsy, shimmy and bop to the disco music playing over the mixed dialogue of a large crowd. You’d had quite the day today, receiving a job offer at a bar, of all places, but you were excited. As you had progressed through the process it took to earn your degree, you had begun to wonder over time if you would ever be able to put it to use in a way that would be enjoyable. Combining your love for music and your love for engineering into one job was the dream, and having it just offered to you was quite surreal, especially because of how fast it had been proposed. You’re overjoyed, really, and you can’t wait for John to call you, hopefully tomorrow. But then again, he hadn’t specified when he planned to call you.
“Hey, Angie!” you call your friend. “I don’t believe we got the time that John is planning to call me. I’m going to go ask him!”
Shouting over the noise as well, she replies, “Alright, I’ll stay here, I promise!”
You trot towards where you had seen him earlier. You spot him quickly, a little further away, but not entirely out of sight.
“Hey, again, John!” you say, as you reach him.
“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he remarks jokingly.
“I just wanted to know what time you plan to call me?”
“How’s eleven o’clock tomorrow?” he asks.
“That sounds fantastic,” you tell him appreciatively, “thanks!” Then you begin to head back to where you left Angie. When you’re about halfway there, he gives you a quick wink, also without any explanation.
You cannot wait to meet his crowd.
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Joy and anticipation fill the remaining hours leading up to your phone call. You were not at all sure what to expect, but that doesn’t matter right now.
“God, Y/N, I get it, you’re excited,” Angie grumbles. “But this is the fifth time, and counting, that you’ve mentioned your phone call within three and a half hours. I’m happy for you, but maybe could you shut up about it for a minute.” She sounds annoyed, but there is also a definite undertone of enthusiasm in her voice.
You check the clock, which reads nine-thirty. Although the call is just a follow up of your conversation with John, you’re thrilled to finally have a promising job offer.
As you lie down on your flat’s sofa, your cat Draco follows you, and you look out the window, contemplating what you will do if they decide to hire you as a roadie for Queen. You wonder what the other band members are like, without knowing anything about them other than the fact that there is a lead singer, a guitarist, a drummer, and a bassist, the latter of which is John, Angie has informed you. Before you know it, you’re daydreaming about watching the band from high up on the scaffolding, with a view of a smoky and magnificent stage. You envision them in your mind and place the people on your imaginary stage.
Then, suddenly, the phone rings, and you jump to your feet. You practically sprint to the telephone.
“Y/N speaking, who is this?” you ask out of instinct.
“This is Brian May of Queen, are you our new roadie?”
At this, you feel your heart skip a beat, firstly because of being referred to as their roadie, and secondly because of the new, gentle voice coming out of the phone.
“Hello, Brian May. I assume John told you that I may be working for you guys soon?”
“Yes, our bassist! I’m excited to have you on the team— Y/N, was it?”
“That’s me! I had been expecting John to call me, but it’s nice to meet you! Which member of the band are you?” you ask.
“I’m the guitarist, a man named Roger Taylor is our drummer, our lead singer’s name is Freddie Mercury, and as you know, John’s the bassist.”
“Oh, that’s very impressive. I did try to pick up the guitar at one point, but I haven’t practised in a while,” you tell him.
“It certainly takes practice, but I believe it looks harder than it is.” His tone is friendly, his words are comforting. “So what are you bringing to the band?” he questions.
“John said he’d like me to help with sound and lights. I’m an electrical engineer, like him.”
“Wow, very intriguing! I’ve watched him build an amp, it’s quite mesmerising, honestly.”
You raise your eyebrows. “He can build amps?” you say. “I’ve got to ask him about that some time, that’s interesting.”
The two of you converse for a while, sharing your musical inquiries, and Brian tells you about the band members, the songs they’ve written, and about himself. You tell him about your journey towards your degree, and how thrilled you were when you learned you could work in a way that would allow you to combine your passions.
During the course of the phone call, you begin to warm to the sound of Brian’s voice, the tender peacefulness of it and the way his tone becomes extra cheery when he speaks of something he has a passion for. Soon, it feels like you’re talking to an old friend,
As much as you’d like to keep talking with Brian, though, Angie soon interrupts to tell you that it has been an hour since you’ve picked up the phone.
“I need the phone, I’ve got to call my boss!” she scolds, and so you promptly address Brian.
“Sorry, Brian, my flatmate is getting a bit petulant and wants to use the phone, but I’ll be sure to call you back!”
“Of course. It was nice talking to you. Any chance you’d like to visit our studio sometime? If you’re going to work with us, you should meet the other bandmates, and we can—”
“I’d love to, thank you!” you respond, too excited to let him finish. Your current situation can’t get much better, you think.
“How does half-past three sound?” he responds, and you’re sure he’s aware of your eagerness.
“Yes!” he replies, excitedly as well.
Her enthusiasm is contagious. You can tell how overjoyed she is to be working with a band. You had never had anyone who’s so zealous and wanted to work with the band before.
“I’ll give you the address if you’d like,” you tell her.
“Of course, just let me find a pen,” she responds.
You wait with the phone to your ear, until you hear a bit of rustling, and, “Found one!”
Listing off the address of your studio, you were excited to meet the girl you had been talking to for an hour now. You heard some scribbling, and then another voice, saying something along the lines of, “I’ve got to get on now, Y/N.”
“Apologies, that was my flatmate again, I’ve got to go,” she says, an undeniable sense of urgency in her voice.
“Oh, of course! It was wonderful meeting you, Y/N, and I can’t wait to meet you in person!” you tell her. It had truly been a lovely time, sharing your stories from the band and telling her about the kinds of music they make, and just having a genuine conversation with someone who is, to you, a stranger.
“A pleasure meeting you as well, and I’ll have you know that I’ll be there at three-thirty, on the dot!” she replies.
You hear the phone on the other line click, and then you hang up as well.
“Jesus, Bri, how long was that fucking phone call?” you hear from across the room.
“She’s quite an interesting girl, Fred. I’m excited to have her working with us,” you tell the voice.
“So when are we going to meet this girl?” another voice, belonging to the blondie, asks.
“Uhm, I told her to come to the studio at half-past-three,” you respond, sheepishly.
“Brian! What the hell?” Deaky exclaims.
“I just wanted her to get to know us if she’s going to be working with the band,” you frantically explain to him.
You didn’t know what came over you. Something just told you that you had to meet this girl in person, and soon.
“Do we have a bit of an infatuation on our hands?” Deaky asks jokingly.
“I haven’t even met her in person, Deaks, I just thought we should all tell her how things are run if we ever figure that out, and you seemed pretty quick to convince her to be a roadie!” you tell him, a bit more inadvertently hostile than you intend.
“We need more crew, she was very qualified, it was appropriate in the situation.”
“Well, she’s coming over anyway, so there isn’t any going back now.” you retort.
As you make yourself a bit more presentable, you think to yourself how fast this has happened. You didn’t mind- you’re insanely excited- it’s just fascinating. One night you’re at a bar with Angie, next thing you know, you’re about to meet up with uprising musicians to work with them at their performances, and a bit in the studio as well, as Brian had informed you. To consume time, you decide to put on music. You weren’t exactly sure what kind of mood you were in, but you settle on “Piano Man,” a classic. A mix of upbeat and more relaxed tones. As the train-like beat of “Travelin’ Prayer” fades in, you tap your hand to the beat on the lounge chair you were currently resting on. The song reminds you of a mix of blues and country, which was always a bit odd to you, considering it was Billy Joel.
The time passes by faster than you think it would, experiencing a myriad of different emotions throughout the album. Before you knew it, it’s three o’clock. You slip on some shoes, walk out the door and into your car.
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As you knock on the studio door, your heart was beating out of your chest. A tall, lanky, and impressively curly-haired man appears from behind the door and pulls it open.
“Hi! Y/N, correct?” he asks.
“Yes, and you’re Brian, right?” you respond. You recognise his voice; you wouldn’t have mistaken it for anyone else’s if your life depended on it.
“Come on in, why don’t you?” he offers.
You follow him as he walks through a dimmed hallway, leading you to a brighter room, based on what you could see through the impending appearance of the doorway. When you enter, you were met with the faces of the other three band members. One long, blonde-haired man was laying on a big leather couch, a long, black-haired man with bangs was reclining on a chaise lounge, looking through several stapled papers, and John, the bassist, you remember, was sitting close to the blondie on the couch.
Pointing to the black-haired man, Brian said, “Y/N, this is Freddie, Freddie Mercury. Freddie, meet Y/N.”
“Wonderful to meet you, darling,” Freddie addresses you.
“It’s a pleasure, Freddie,” you respond.
The other member, who you assume is Roger, recalling what Brian had told you on your phone call earlier, but you still let him formally introduce the two of you to each other.
“Y/N, this is Roger, Roger Taylor. Roger, this is Y/N.”
“Oh, enough of that,” Freddie exclaims, “Y/N, dear, help me pick out a top, I can’t seem to decide.”
You step over to where he is lying and sit down next to him.
“Here’s number one,” he says, showing you a flowy white top, “and here’s number two,” he adds, flipping a few pages over to reveal a black top with a sheer black cape. You look at him and look at the pictures.
“I say number one, but it’s your choice,” you tell him.
“Yes! I knew you would pick that one, thank you,” he tells you, excitedly, “I’ll inform the designer.”
“Ah, I see the two of you have hit it off very quickly,” John comments.
“Hey, I haven’t known you for much longer, John,” you retort.
“Just call me Deaky, the other three will correct you anyways,” he says, half-defeatedly.
“It’s practically his name!” Freddie articulates.
“If you say so, Deaky,” you say, just to mock him.
Roger gets up and strolls over to his drum set, and starts fiddling with something on the side of them. He then pulls out a drumstick and hits it. He turns something on the drums and hits it again. He does this a few times, before asking you, “Hey, Y/N, could you give me a hand?”
You step over to his drums as he asks, “Could you just keep turning this until I say stop?”
You reach down to a small knob on the drum and begin slowly turning it, and Roger hits it several times until he says, “Okay- stop, that’s good, thank you, Y/N!” But you keep turning it, and you see his eyes widen a bit, till you put it back where he had initially wanted. You giggle as he says, “Oh, fuck you, you can’t do that!”
Everyone seems to be getting along swimmingly, but for some reason, you weren’t able to do much more than watch. You’re glad Y/N is getting along with Roger, Deaky, and Fred, but you also want to talk to her. But what you say must be important, you can’t just start talking; otherwise, it’ll be boring.
“Bri?” you snap out of your thoughts, “we were just talking about our colleges. Tell Y/N about what you study.” Deaky instructs.
“Oh, sorry, Y/N. I study astrophysics, specifically interplanetary dust-”
“And yes, he did go to college just to study dust, you are not mistaken,” Roger interrupts.
“Excuse me, Rog, it is a significant topic!” you respond. “It’s everything that separates the planets, a zodiacal cloud.”
“I mean, that’s pretty cool to me, Bri,” Y/N interjects. She called me “Bri”. It’s the little things, the small gestures that mean so much to you.
“See? She agrees!” you tell Roger, trying to prove yourself.
“Ladies, cool the fuck down,” Freddie orders.
You sigh, “Fine, but I can promise you, Fred, this battle will never end!”
“So, about Y/N working as a roadie,” Deaky starts, “She’ll be working on lights and sound for concerts, and perhaps some sound around the studio.”
“That sounds fantastic to me,” Freddie says before Deaky can say another word.
“Definitely not opposed,” you include.
“I have no say in this, but if I were you I would let me help you guys,” Y/N says facetiously.
“Well, then I believe it’s unanimous, although I’m not sure why it wouldn’t have been,” Deaky declares. “Love ya, Y/N.”
“Congrats, now you get to switch my pedals out during shows, and then I’ll yell at you to do it faster as payback,” Roger adds, jokingly, rubbing his hands together and grinning maniacally.
“Welcome to our little family, Y/N!” Freddie says, joy very much apparent in his voice.
“I can’t wait to get to spend more time with you!” you say, in a slight panic.
Was that creepy? It was probably fine. But what if it wasn’t? What if Y/N misinterprets it?
You weren’t sure if you had expected them to hire you or not, but they did! At the studio, you talk tech with John, as the other band members remark on how much of a nerd the two of you are, but you don’t mind, it was all in good fun. Freddie and Rog practise some vocals together, and Brian was working on a riff, almost the entire time. Freddie also tries out some new lyrics with Bri accompanying him. You don’t notice how late it had gotten until you heard Deaky say, “Alright, I’ll be heading home. You lot have a good night, including Y/N.”
You hear several, “Goodbye, Deaky,”s as he leaves, yawning.
“I think that might be my cue as well, I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I’ll wish you all goodnight,” you announce.
“Have a goodnight, Y/N,” choruses from the remaining group.
You walk out to your car, thinking about the whirlwind of a day-and-a-half you just had. It was exciting, though, and now you have a job- and a fantastic one- working with people you genuinely liked. Notably, Brian, he seemed to be very passionate about what he does, and very willing to take risks for things he loves, like astrophysics. You couldn’t wait to spend more time with him, too.
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As you pull into your flat, leave and lock your car, and unlock the front door, you could see your cat, Draco, pawing at the window.
“Alright, alright, I’m here!” you affirm him as you close the door behind you. He comes up to you and walks alongside you to the kitchen, where you give him his late-night-snack. As you place down his food and water bowl with a clink, you hear the ringing of your phone. “The hell… it’s almost eleven o’clock!” you say to yourself, but pick the phone up anyway.
“Get off your ass and come party with us, Y/N!” you hear Freddie exclaim.
“I thought you all went home because you were tired!”
“Oh, no, that always just means, get home, change, and go directly to the bar!” you hear in Roger’s voice.
“Wait, you’ve got Roger there too?” you question.
“Yes, and Brian, and John, get over here, girl!” Freddie orders you.
These boys certainly are good at being abrupt.
“Alright, fine,” you say, feigning reluctance.
You aren’t opposed to visiting the bar; it was just surprising to you that they didn’t mention it an hour ago when the five of you were still in the same place.
“And you all are meeting at Eccentric?”
“Yes, I’ll see you in half an hour?” Freddie asks.
“Of course, Fred. I wouldn’t miss it,” you tell him.
To be honest, the more time you spent with them, the better. All four of the boys were very fun to be around, and getting a bit drunk tonight wasn’t the worst idea. You place the phone down and head over to your bedroom to re-freshen up. You feel a little bit guilty leaving your cat, but he had plenty of food, and you would make sure to get back in time to feed him in the morning.
“Sorry, Draco, boy, I have to leave again. But I’ll be back soon,” you tell him, as he rubs up against your legs, “I love you, I won’t be long.”
You knew you would be out for a while, but it made you (and maybe him) feel better about the situation.
Before you knew it, you were back out the door and in the car.
“Wait, you fucking did it?” you frantically ask Freddie.
“Of course, we never leave out new friends and-slash-or roadies!” he responds.
You can not let this new girl see you drunk, it never goes well.
“Now get in the car, you wanker,” Roger orders.
On your way, all that fills your mind was the consequences and the things you could accidentally do while under-the-influence.
By the time you had arrived at Eccentric, you had almost entirely convinced yourself to stay sober for tonight. But, as you walk through the door, and spot Y/N, full drink in hand, you were a bit less worried. She waves towards you, Freddie, Deaky, and Roger, and you wave back.
“I’m going to go get a drink,” you told them as you began to make your way to the bar.
Y/N looked beautiful, her eyes reflecting the flashing colours of the dance floor, her hair was in an updo. An elegant choice, you think, especially for the bar, but obviously, you didn’t mind.
You desperately try to keep your hair in its position, thankfully not-too-tipsy, as you saw Brian walking towards your spot at the bar.
You greet him, “Hey, Bri!”
“Hello, Y/N,” he tucks a curly lock behind his ear, “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing fairly good, though I’m feeling a bit guilty, because I’ve left my cat, Draco, alone,” you tell him, honestly.
“Oh, Draco, like the constellation?”
“Yes! It happens to be my favourite,” you inform him.
“Oh, how interesting! It’s mine as well,” he tells you excitedly, “and I’m sure Draco will do alright, no reason to feel guilty as long as he’s been fed.”
“I always do before I go out. Do you have any pets?”
“I don’t, but I love all animals dearly.”
“That’s so sweet! To be quite honest with you, it’s nice to meet people that present themselves as respectful and kind towards women; you don’t find as many of those these days-”
“Just kiss already, lovebirds!” you hear Freddie slur from behind you.
“Oh, shut up, Fred,” Brian ripostes.
“As you wish,” he responds with a smirk before strutting back to join a snickering Roger.
Brian returns to looking at you, “Excuse him, that was pretty uncalled for.”
“No worries,” you reassure him, smiling.
Suddenly, Brian jerks his head up a bit, and it alerts you.
“I’ve just remembered, I’ve got to get outside,” he tells you, urgently, already attempting to push through the crowd.
“Wait, Bri,” you quickly try to stop him, “Why?”
“A Leonid meteor storm is supposed to occur right around now, it’s a highly infrequent experience, and it’s going to be visible from our location!” he tells you.
Your eyes widen, “Are you sure?”
This news completely changes your idea of dancing sitting around the bar for a few hours.
“Can I come with?” you say, a bit quieter.
“Sure! Let’s just get out there before we’ve lost the opportunity,” he declares.
The two of you dash out the door, don’t mention anything to John, Freddie, or Roger and look around for a suitable viewing spot.
With little luck, you ask Bri, “Do you see anywhere we can sit?”
“I do, it’s only a bit further up there,” he answers, pointing towards a large bench, secluded from most streetlights and illuminated by piercing moonlight.
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As you get closer, you begin to jog lightly, before taking a seat on the bench and looking back at Brian.
“This is much nicer,” he comments, before sitting down beside you.
Before you can respond, bright flourishes of light begin to cross the sky. As they start to pick up pace, you don’t need to acknowledge it. Both of you were fully immersed in the light show before you. You barely notice as Brian slips his arm around your shoulders, grazing the back of your neck, his gaze still focused on the astronomical wonder. You sigh, lightly, taking everything in. You feel both wholly aware of everything, and as laid back and content as one can be.
“Beautiful, isn’t it,” Bri remarks fondly.
You don’t respond, but you nod slowly, captivated by the view. Slowly turning away and towards him, you see him open a hand for you to take in between the both of you, and you do. You ponder over how you found such a fabulous and caring friend. Spending the next hour and a half, just like this, Brian’s comforting touch apparent and warm, you watch the meteor storm in awe.
“That was amazing,” both of you remark, almost simultaneously as the sky begins to darken again.
You sit with him in peaceful silence for a moment, the only sound around you is your breathing and the tranquil chorus of crickets hiding in the trees. You wouldn’t have snapped back into reality if it weren’t for the distant sound of tires squealing.
You remind him, “We should probably start back, the others might be worried.”
You don’t want to leave, but you respond, “Right.”
As you slowly rise from your sitting position, you heard, distantly, “Oh my god, just fucking kiss!”
You and Y/N turn to see Roger, Freddie, and Deaky huddled together, giggling like teenagers around the corner.
“Bloody hell, Fred!” you snap.
“Just doin’ my job, darling!” Freddie exclaims, now doubled over with the others in drunk laughter.
“So sorry about them, they’re outrageous when they’re ‘under the influence’,” Brian tells you
“It was a little bit funny...” Y/N giggles lightly, as you both arrive back to the mass of long hair and hysterical amusement.”
“How did you lot even find us?” he addresses the group.
“Wouldn’t say it was too hard when you too were practically making out,” Roger states dramatically, laughing at his joke.
Suddenly, you hear a thump and look down to see Roger, thankfully still conscious, waving his arms in the air for someone to help him up.
“Oh no, our friend hath toppled over!” Deaky points out the obvious, still laughing, but reaching down in a failed attempt to lift Roger from the grass.
“Yeah, no shit, Deaks,” you respond, but this time, you chuckle a little as well.
“Does anyone have a stretcher? Perhaps a cot? A luxury chaise?” Freddie cracks himself up.
They joke between themselves for what seems like ages, Y/N mildly joining in. After it appears they’ve calmed themselves a bit, you turn to her and inform her, “We’ve got to get these crazy folks home. Could you help me out?”
“Of course, Bri,’ you answer, almost looking forward to it, strangely, “Are bringing them to their flats or just have them crash at one?”
“There’s no way we’ll get them to their respective places and make it out alive,” he tells you.
You look back at the three extremely tipsy boys and snicker to yourself.
You both turn back to them, and you raise their attention by shouting, “Who’s up for a sleepover?”
“Ooh, delightful!” “Yay!” and “Sleepover!” chime from the group.
“Are we bring them to mine or yours?” you ask Brian.
“I was planning on getting them to my flat if that’s alright.”
“Sounds good to me, not sure how excited my flatmate would be about me bringing home four men without previous notice,” you joke.
You and Brian assist a giddy Freddie, Deaky, and Roger to your car. You take the driver’s seat next to Brian as you hear assorted mumbling and the occasional acknowledgement of a passerby omitting from the backseat.
The ride to Bri’s flat is undoubtedly entertaining, with Roger trying, successfully, to stick his head out the sunroof and Freddie attempting to get his meow precisely like a cat’s, while Deaky ties his hair to the FM handle.
“As soon as you think they’ve calmed down, they’re back at it,” Brian informs you as if he were referring to a group of rowdy children.
Thankfully, their actions finally wear them out by the time you arrive.
Helping them inside, Bri comments, “Don’t worry, they’ll be out in less than twenty-five minutes.”
They indeed were like small children if they got drunk enough.
You notice that there are already two folded out-couches fixed with sheets and blankets in Brian’s sitting room.
“I’m assuming this happens quite often?” you question, after noticing this.
“Oh yeah, almost every time. Although this time I have someone to help me out. Thank you, by the way.”
“Oh, no problem, it was quite amusing, really.”
You brought John and Roger to one of the sofabeds, and Freddie to the other, per his request from earlier that night, Brian tells you.
He treads to what you assume is his kitchen, and emerges, a few minutes later, with three glasses of water for the boys.
“Oh, thank you,” is the last thing you hear from any of them.
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Once they are all visibly asleep, you aren’t entirely sure what to do.
“So, do you want to stay here for the night or are you going home? Just keep in mind that if you plan to stay here, you’ll have to share a bed with me, unless you’d like to sleep with the boys.”
You should go home, but something tells you to stay.
Over a few seconds, you contemplate the consequences of just staying over and returning home in the morning, and you conclude that it really wasn’t that detrimental.
“If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll stay here for tonight,” you inform him.
“It’s perfectly alright.”
You follow him back into his room and flop onto the bed, exhausted from hauling the boys back to the house. You lay on your back for a minute, staring up at the off-white drywall ceiling.
Soon, Brian sits next to you, but now he is holding a large acoustic guitar. Oh, to be living a cliche. But you don’t mind; you think it’s sweet. He begins strumming slowly and quietly mumbling. When he finds himself playing the last chord, you can see him thinking over what he has played. He starts again, his mumbles becoming words and his quiet tune becomes a passionate lullaby,
So dear friends, your love is gone,
Only tears to dwell upon.
I dare not say as the wind must blow,
So a love is lost, a love is won.
He looks off to the side in thought, tapping his nails against the wooden body of the guitar.
Taking a deep breath, he resumes,
Go to sleep and dream again,
Soon your hopes will rise and then,
From all this gloom, life can start anew,
And there'll be no crying soon.
You both sit there for a minute, hearing the last of the strings ring out before silence.
“That was outright enchanting, Bri.”
“Thank you. I had the tune in my head as we were watching the meteor storm. To be frank, I’m not fully sure what inspired the lyrics, I just enjoy the sound of them, I think.”
You aren’t fully sure where the night should or will go, but before you know it, you’re under the covers of his bed as he finishes his shower. A few nights ago, you would not have thought you would’ve found yourself in this position. You aren’t all that aware of how this may change your relationship with Brian, but right now, all you could think about was getting sleep. It has been a long, exciting day, but you need some rest. You turn onto your side, pulling the comforter further up to your shoulders and close your eyes. Thinking about the days to come, you can’t wait to see all of the Queen boys more. It had been a great introduction into their “family” today, and you’re overjoyed by the thought of spending lots of time with them. You allow your mind to wander, as you remember less and less of what had been taking place in your brain just moments earlier.
Unexpectedly, you feel long arms wrap around your waist, and soft hands rest on your belly before you can oppose. It takes you a moment to process the current arrangement, Bri’s chin nested in your hair. Before the not-tired-you can mentally object, you sink back into him and accept his embrace. You’re a bit confused as to how this came about, but you just enjoy it.
“Is this too much? I greatly apologise if it is, I should have checked with you first,” Bri asks, abruptly.
“No, no, it’s absolutely alright, Bri. I’m not exactly sure what it means for us but friends can do this as well, right?”
“Oh, of course, as long as we’re both comfortable,” you respond.
Y/N places a warm hand onto one of yours placed around her and sighs contently. It was a bit interesting to you, just this morning, you were talking to a mystery roadie on the phone, and now she’s here, asleep beside you.
“Goodnight, Bri,” she tells you softly.
But before your thoughts fully devour you, you close your eyes. Your tired-brain is piloting; you need sleep. And very soon after your eyelids close shut, you do, feeling Y/N’s chest rising and falling underneath your hands. You think this will make your relationship a bit complicated, but for the time being, all you can think about is getting some shut-eye.
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“Shut your mouth, Freddie!” you can hear in Deaky’s voice as the world begins to appear around you.
You lift your head bit, before realising the existence of the sleeping girl in your arms. She’s pulled one of your arms close to her chest, so you stay as still as possible. You look around to see Freddie, Deaky and Roger peering from behind the door, whispering to each other.
“Subtle, aren’t you all,” you comment sarcastically.
“What in your right mind made you decide to bring Y/N to bed?” Deaky asks you.
“I don’t know, Deaks. She was here; we were both tired; neither of us really cared.”
“Oh, forget that, how good was she?” Freddie questions, your eyes widen.
“What? Oh, no, Fred, we didn’t do that, she just slept next to me.”
“Just slept next to you? The two of you nearly look like you’re dating.”
As Y/N begins to stir, you all fall silent.
You wake to the sight of the four band members and the soft touch coming from the curly-haired figure beside you. As you regain your full consciousness, you see Deaky, Roger, and Freddie standing before the bed, and feel Brian around you, your arms wrapped around one of his.
“I see the four of you have already arisen from your slumber,” you joke.
You begin to sit up, and Bri notices, retracting his arms so you can do so.
“Didn’t know you and Bri had gotten so close over just one night,” Roger remarks, nudging Deaky lightly and smirking ironically.
You laugh, unaware of the dialogue that had preceded your awakening this morning.
“We both made a kind of mutual agreement that it was platonic, although I can see where you’re coming from,” you tell them somewhat groggily.
“Well, whatever it was, it was adorable,” Freddie comments, Brian shooting him a look as he does.
You begin to yawn, stretching your arms out and accidentally bumping Roger.
“Hey!” he responds, poking you back.
You return the favour once more, Rog inadvertently pushing Freddie as he tries to dodge you. Freddie takes this as a proposal of war. He attempts to pin Roger to the ground, but he escapes. He falls back, leaning onto the bed to catch his fall.
“Let me get on your back,” Roger turns to Brian and orders him.
“Well that certainly escalated quickly,” he responds, but he sits on the bed so that Roger can mount his back.
“Quick, Y/N, get up here,” Freddie calls to you, patting his back, and you quickly do so.
“Onward, fool!” Roger exclaims to Brian, chasing you atop Freddie into the sitting room.
Soon you and he are cornered by the tower of blonde and brown hair, causing Freddie to speedily head towards the kitchen. This time, Deaky follows him as well.
He takes two fish slices, stops Brian and Freddie to hand you and Roger one, and says, “Fight fair.”
Playfully jabbing at each other and laughing, you think to yourself.
I better never let these guys go. There’s no one else which with I could do this.
“Oh, I’ll get you for that, Bri!” you hear Roger growl playfully.
This goes on for almost half-an-hour, and at one point Deaky even joins in with a rolling pin.
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After you all tire yourselves out, the four of you collapse on the several pull-out beds. All you hear is the slight creaking of the bed and heavy breathing for several moments.
“That was a way to spend a morning,” Brian remarks.
“And a bloody fantastic one if I do say so myself,” Freddie replies.
“Well, I’m thinking of having some breakfast, I don’t know about you lot,” you say, slowly rising from the long-haired, sighing heap.
“I think that sounds wonderful, just give me a minute,” John responds.
Freddie flips over and makes one last tired attempt to tackle Roger, instead half-draping himself over his torso.
Roger pets his hair momentarily before sitting up and heading to the kitchen, “Alright, I’m making some food.”
“I think I’ll stay here for another moment or two unless you need help,” Brian adds.
“I’ll stay with Brian as well,” announces Freddie.
You follow Roger with Deaky to the kitchen, where Roger is removing eggs from the fridge.
“I think I’ll make some rolls,” adds Deaky, pulling out a box of Sara Lee croissants.
“Then I’ll make the coffee,” you tell them.
You watch the back of Y/N’s head disappear into the kitchen, and now you are alone with Freddie.
“So, Bri, what really happened last night?”
“For the last time, Fred, we just slept in the same bed because there wasn’t another one,” you tell him.
“Alright, alright,” he says, smirking slightly with his hands raises as if he were to surrender, “but do you liiiiike her?” he speculates childishly.
“I mean, she’s quite nice, but just as friends, as I keep telling you.”
You had genuinely enjoyed last night, but you aren’t ready to reveal any of that.n In all honesty, you thought you may have initiated too much last night, but it seemed like Y/N hadn’t opposed, which relieved you. Freddie continues, “She unquestionably is lovely to be around, we’ve got to thank Deaks for finding her.”
“Hey, Bri, can I tell you something?”
“The boys and I think Y/N was dreaming about you last night.”
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