#which entails sneaking drinks and smoke breaks (an excuse to spend time that's very much under wraps)

[love-birds-stuff]

I'm brainrotting SO incredibly hard abt Tim rn

[a-froger-epic]

W for Froger if you like 👀

From the letter asks 

Froger - Will They, Won’t They (They Will)

I mean, obviously this one is the sequel to this.

---

Freddie Mercury was on a mission. Unfortunately, the endeavour was proving a lot more challenging than he had originally anticipated. Freddie liked to think that he was reasonably alluring when he wanted to be. Perhaps not irresistible, but he certainly had a way and - well, it wasn’t usually so bloody difficult to get somebody to kiss him!

Although perhaps the fact that this particular somebody was his bandmate and best friend and had to date only been known to be interested in the opposite sex... alright, perhaps there were a handful of things standing in the way of his plan.

But there was nothing for it, it had to be done, because Freddie needed proof. 

Proof of what, he wasn’t entirely sure. Most of the time, the answer to that depended on his mood.

Proof that they’d simply been drunk and the excitement of the party had, so to say, enhanced the experience - was what he thought in the studio when sooner than kiss Roger, he very much wanted to strangle him because he wouldn’t stop arguing his opinion on Freddie’s latest contribution to their new album, and now had Brian backing him up, too, even though Freddie’s idea was absolutely inspired.

Proof that sometimes you could spend years with something very special right in front of you, but never see it, until you did - was what he thought, chin in his hand, watching Roger at the restaurant, waving his chopsticks about adorably as he spoke, absent-mindedly twirling one in his hand because it was second nature to him.

Freddie had to know if the way one innocent kiss, lasting three seconds exactly, had left him momentarily breathless had simply been a fluke. Or not. Because if not... truthfully, he didn’t know what an ‘if not’ scenario entailed, and he was putting off thinking about that until he was absolutely positive that he absolutely had to. But what he had thought about, more than he would have liked to admit, was how certain he was that it wasn’t just him. Roger had felt it, too. Freddie couldn’t have imagined it, the furtive glance Roger had thrown him shortly after, just before he had excused himself and gone to refill his drink. Only to avoid Freddie, or so it had felt, for the rest of the afternoon.

But the very next day everything had gone back to normal. Or so it seemed, on the surface of it. If one didn’t count the lingering looks and purely accidental or casual touches, which had always been there, always, only now they felt... charged.

It was driving Freddie to distraction. And there was surely only one way to put the whole thing to rest.

However, Roger didn’t seem to think so. And the more Freddie tried to bring about a situation that might lend itself to kissing, the less he succeeded.

He’d tried staying behind at the studio, so he and Roger might be the last two leave, but Roger always seemed in a hurry to head off.

He’d tried joining him on smoke breaks, sensually pursing his lips around his own cigarette, but all it had done was worry Brian, who now thought Freddie was particularly stressed as he usually barely ever smoked.

Although there were moments... knees touching and their eyes meeting as they sat beside each other, unobserved, in the dimly lit corner of a pub. Until Roger very quickly reached for his pint and turned away. Falling silent, all of a sudden, as they stepped into a lift together, a tension like electricity in the air before a thunderstorm arising between them as they glanced at each other. But the moment Freddie had turned his head towards him, Roger had crossed his arms and started talking about the weather.

But tonight was worst of all, Freddie thought, at a party late one night. His suggestion to play spin the bottle once everyone was sufficiently drunk had, interestingly enough, gone down a treat. Yet all it led to was having to watch Roger kiss a whole string of people, none of whom were Freddie.

This was so oddly infuriating that Freddie found himself retrieving his coat from where it had been laid out on the bed of a spare bedroom not much later. So lost was he in his thoughts, all of them angrily revolving around Roger and how much fun he was clearly having, kissing everyone but Freddie, that he yelped with surprise when he turned back to the door. Only to find the object of both his desire (he was too drunk to deny it, really, in that moment) and ire standing there.

“Uh, hey...” Roger smiled and leaned the door shut behind him.

“Goodness, Roger.” Freddie huffed and adjusted his coat, which he had just put on, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” Roger cocked his head, piercing blue eyes regarding him with a hint of concern. “You alright?”

“Of course I am, absolutely splendid. Why in the world wouldn’t I be?”

Smooth, Mercury. Freddie bit his lips, scrutinising the curtains which clashed horribly with the rug in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Roger come a little closer and realised two things. One, they were alone, reasonably inebriated and this was the best opportunity to date for a repeat of that afternoon on the day of his birthday brunch. Two, he was far too upset with Roger to want to kiss him. Bloody bastard. What was he doing here anyway, shouldn’t he be out there making out with all and sundry?

“I don’t know,” Roger sounded both a little wary and a little amused, but Freddie couldn’t know for sure because he was decidedly not looking at him. “Just, you seem pretty mad.” There was a pause. “At me?”

Expelling a breath through his nose, Freddie put his hands on his hips and glanced at him, trying to find the energy and will to act as though he was just dandy, and failing. “Well, if you must know,” he found himself saying instead, and then it was too late and his tongue, loosened by alcohol, produced the words before he could stop it, “I am cross with you but I don’t see why that’s any of your concern, you seemed pretty busy in there...” Freddie waved his hand in the direction of the door before. “Having an absolute ball of a time, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

Roger had narrowed his eyes, a frown on his face but the corner of his mouth twitching a little. If he was going to laugh at him, Freddie was going to have to shove him out of the way and just leave right this minute. But Roger kept his face straight as he spoke.

“Uhm,” he swallowed, licking over his lips briefly, and Freddie hated himself for noticing it. “You’re not... Are you... jealous?”

Freddie shrugged, his jaw set and his gaze firmly averted. Then he proceeded to utter the most unconvincing “no” in human history, the inflection so wrong it sounded as though he’d forgotten how to pronounce the word.

Roger sighed. And the very next moment, Freddie found himself utterly defenceless as the other man crossed the room, stepping right into his personal space. 

“So, I guess...” His voice quiet, Roger reached up, gently tugging the collar of Freddie’s coat into place, and Freddie forgot he was angry. Instead of pushing him away, he dropped his arms by his sides. In fact, it was likely that he forgot he had arms, too, in that moment. “I guess you wouldn’t be mad... if I...”

He never finished the sentence, but leaned in instead, slotting their mouths together. As tipsy as they were, the kiss was anything but a drunken snog. It was far too tentative and slow for that, only lips caressing each other at first, until Freddie opened his mouth wider and Roger took the invitation with a soft moan, hot tongue sliding into his mouth. It was just as well that Roger had wrapped an arm around his waist, because for all that tenderness, it was intense. Freddie felt a little shaky on his legs and slid a steadying hand around the back of Roger’s neck. This wasn’t like last time, like an oddly pleasant shock of static, sending a shiver through him. No, this was an entire thunderstorm, making the small hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck stand on end. Exhilarating, like watching lighting tear across the night sky. and he was drenched in desire within moments, heart beating so fast he could barely breathe.

“Wow.” Funnily enough, that was Roger’s whisper against his lips, although Freddie wholeheartedly agreed. They pulled apart just enough to look at each other, a pair of matching, mildly ecstatic grins blooming on their faces.

“God, I should’ve done that sooner,” Roger murmured, shaking his head slightly.

“Yes,” Freddie couldn’t help but agree quite fervently. “Why didn’t you?”

“Scared,” Roger admitted simply, his expression turning serious. “So...”

“Not-” Bringing his hand around to Roger’s face, Freddie touched his fingertips to his lips, silencing him. “Not now,” he whispered. “Tomorrow. Please? Let me just... have this.”

Roger nodded wordlessly and took Freddie’s hand in his, kissing his fingertips before he moved it out of the way and leaned in again. Whatever needed to be said, could and would be said tomorrow. If nothing else, this moment was theirs.