#frankly i should dress weirder lol

[despazito]

[izzy-b-hands]

Take A Picture

A bit of Tim/Brian during the Smile years, with just a hint of poly!Smile (Tim/Bri/Rog) as well (to the surprise of no one, I’m sure.) Inspired by this picture: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/638509013423783936  which was brought up on the DL discord server with mentions of a fic needing to be written inspired by it...so here we are lol. 

We get smutty in this, but there’s also my usual dashes of Emotions for extra flavor. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

"This isn't the weirdest place we've taken a photo at," Tim says, as he clambers past the more rusted bathtub and into the slightly bigger one beside it. "It's on the list maybe, but it isn't the weirdest."

"I'm in a bath, Tim," Brian sighs, and folds himself in after him. "At the least, this should be high up on that list."

"We could get weirder," Tim teases. "More experimental." "I'm not taking my shirt off," Brian sounds like he's joking, but that doesn't stop Tim from blushing, turning away to fake inspection of the bath before Brian can see him.

"You're so damned buttoned up, how would you get it off?" Roger calls from behind the camera. "Will you two sit down and get comfortable already?"

"Right, comfortable in the tub that might give us tetanus," Brian shouts back. "Sorry, let me just recline like a model for you!"

"I don't care how you pose, just hurry it up!" Roger sighs. "I need a break from this." "You just want pictures taken of you," Tim says. "We'll get to you as well, Rog."

Roger grins, and it's always lovely to see. The mentality isn't dissimilar to 'if mother isn't happy, then no one is happy.' So long as Roger can be kept smiling, then the day will be an easier one, with a happy Rog to keep their spirits up.

"Alright, that looks like something," Roger says. "Smile!"

"Hang on!" Brian looks utterly frustrated, trying to fumble his way into a comfortable position. "This wasn't made for someone of my height!" "I'm cozy," Tim teases. "Stretch out some, there's room by me."

As soon as he says it, he realizes he's stepping close to That Line again. The one he and Brian dance around, but have never fully stepped over.

The one that makes them both blush far too easily around each other, that makes it hard to focus when they touch even the slightest bit. And it didn't always feel that way, at least not so strongly.

The line is headed for a breaking point, he knows. Brian manages a quick, slightly silly smile as Roger takes the picture, but he sighs as soon as Roger moves back from them.

"Aw," Roger smiles. "You both look lovely! Shall I scout ahead for other spots while you extricate yourselves?"

"That'll be fine, yeah," Brian responds, his shoes slipping as he tries to climb back out of the tub, bringing to mind a wet cat hoping to escape a bath.

"Let me help," Tim offers, ignoring the way heat flushes his body as he reaches for Brian. "You'll hurt yourself." "I will not," Brian fusses, but he takes Tim's hand as support to push him back out.

The tub, however, has other plans, and before either of them can do anything else, they're back in the tub, slipped down into it, with Brian on top of Tim.

It's a cacophony of limbs, but Tim finds he can't focus much on that.

Not with Brian's thigh in between his legs, hair soft as his head rests on Tim's shoulder, and his chest heaving, probably as much from the fall as the physical contact.  "You okay?" Tim finally manages a moment later, forcing himself to say something, as he fights to remind his body that there can be no reaction to this, none.

"Um," Brian says slowly. "I...I don't think I can get up."

He's about to ask Brian what hurts, until he presses his hip up closer to Brian's, and it's apparent as to why Brian would rather not get out of the tub and go wandering the neighborhood. The Line is there in front of them, and very real, and then it's gone with Brian's lips on his.

Just for moment, before Brian lifts his head, and his eyes are wide.

"Why did you stop?" Tim asks, ignoring the wavering of his voice. "Roger won't be back for another minute at least."

It's Brian's turn to blush now, but a smile comes with it. "I don't think that's enough time."

And of all the things he expected to hear next, Brian attempting something like seduction was not it.

But he likes it. "Maybe we cut the photo session short," he swallows hard, focusing on controlling himself, even as Brian teases, tempts, hips grinding down just a touch to make them both shiver. "Tell Rog we need a lunch break. Then later today we can meet up, finish it, get some pictures of all of us?"

He expects a verbal answer from Brian, but he doesn't mind that he gets a kiss instead, longer this time, with more heat behind it.

He doesn't know where they'll go for their 'lunch break.' There isn't really a good spot that comes to mind.

But Tim knows he's willing to use the van if they must, so long as it keeps Brian close, and keeps that line permanently erased.

---

"Tell me this doesn't mean anything."

"What?" Tim can't help but sound as heartbroken as he feels, shirt off, trousers undone, Brian's hand still down the front of his pants, fingers reaching for his cock as they lay in the back of the van. 

"Just...I feel bad," Brian mutters.

Tim gently extricates Brian's hand from his pants, and motions for Brian to get off of him.

This is it then. Only a fling, like every other boy he's fumbled with in the back of a van, in the dark room of a cold flat, colder in the morning when he's gone without so much as a note. "You aren't the first, and you won't be the last," Tim sighs. "But I'm used to it. So if you're still game, I am."

Brian is adorably befuddled, wearing it like a confused puppy. "What are you talking about?"

"How this means nothing, and you never do this sort of thing, and this doesn't make you..." Tim falters in repeating everything the other guys have told him in the past. He shouldn't be hurt by it anymore. But he is.

"No, I was-" Brian stutters. "I mean...does this mean something to you? Because it means a lot to me and everyone talks about how this shouldn't mean anything, it's just fun, and-" "You are a gorgeous idiot," Tim sighs. "And I'm an okay idiot, I think."

"Don't know what you mean by all this," Brian smiles softly. "But I do know you're more than okay."

And he's not sure he's blushed so bright or so hot before, and it would be Brian to make him do that, wouldn't it?

"I mean, I was sat here, sure you were telling me this didn't mean shit to you," Tim continues. "And that you just wanted to get off and go." "We are on a time crunch," Brian admits, with a peek to his watch, set so delicately on that thin wrist. "How long do you think it'll take Rog to eat a sandwich and a biscuit?"

"Not long enough," Tim replies, his heart pounding away louder than Rog on the drums (and that is frankly fucking loud.) "Maybe...I know I already cut us short, but we could pause this, finish the photo session with Rog, and you could come back to..."

He trails off without meaning to, his voice just simply gives out on him, nerves screaming at him that this is too much, Brian won't say yes.

"Yours? Yeah," Brian smiles but he's clearly nervous, and Tim has never been so happy to see Brian nervous before. "Good," Tim smiles and peers out the window. "We should dress; he's nearly here."

"We told him to take his time!"

"Yeah, but he was hungry," Tim reminds Brian. "As it is, we'll have to eat on the run."

But he doesn't really mind that. There are worse things in the world, and he's not so worried about his stomach right now as he fumbles to redress.

---

Roger is grinning like a cat with a canary. "I knew it."

"Roger," Brian scolds, but there's no heat behind it. "Please don't tease."

"No, I think you two can do plenty of that to each other without my help," Roger giggles. "Finally. You've lost me a bet with Bulsara though. I gave you another week before you'd break and one of you would make a move; he had estimated sometime in the last week or this one." "We'll make it up to you," Tim remarks dryly. His cock is already half hard again at the thought of finally getting decent time alone with Brian, and they've been stood talking in the street outside his flat for nearly a half hour. Love Rog as he might (and he does), but good god he can't wait any fucking longer.

"I'm sure you will," Roger laughs. "Go have fun then. Be safe, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"What would you do?" Brian and Tim ask together, and there's no hiding the shock in their voice (Roger's never mentioned interest in any lads.)

But his tongue laps for a quick second at his lower lip, and he smirks prettily. "Wouldn't you two like to know?" He waves and then he's off, leaving them both in a silent consideration.

"If he means it," Brian begins slowly. "And if we both want it, there are other nights."

"Indeed there are," Tim says, though his mind is racing with ideas now. Of nights with him in Brian's lap and Roger in his and noise complaints from the neighbors that he'd be almost proud of.

"But tonight, though," Brian stammers. "I don't have keys to your flat. Of course I don't, but I mean we want to be inside it, not out here, and you haven't got out your keys, and-" Tim takes Brian's hand and pulls him to the door front door, slipping his keys out of his pocket as he moves. "Better?"

Brian just nods, quickly and happily, with a look on his face like he can't quite believe what's happening.

And truthfully, Tim can't believe it either, but it feels like the most wonderful dream. Brian's hand warm in his as they traipse up to his flat, small, but technically capable of being called 'shelter.'

That hand slips out of his and lingers at his hip as they shut and lock the door behind them, and the warmth turns to a delicious sort of burn. "I don't..." Brian giggles. "I don't do this a lot."

"Bri, I know," Tim smiles. "We drive you home after each gig, remember?"

That could have stung, but Brian seems to realize it's meant in jest as he leans down some to kiss Tim.

He might be inexperienced in the emotional side of hook ups of any kind (more serious or not), but there's no inexperience on his lips, the way they linger at the corner of Tim's mouth just long enough to make him short of breath.

"Bed's that way, but the couch doesn't squeak," Tim gasps out when Brian finally let's his mouth free for a moment. "Couch for now, bed later?" Brian's smile is still nervous, but there's a hint of lust, something hot and happy at the implication he's made.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Tim teases, but he's not really worried about that. He's got a feeling Brian will be staying plenty long enough to make use of both.

Brian smiles and the flat is still dark, but as far as Tim is concerned it's just been lit up as brightly as possible.

They do actually turn on a light as they move, clothes dropping to the floor, but there's still some shadow, and that's what captures Tim's eye as they stumble to the couch.

The shadow of Brian on the wall as he kisses his way down Tim's bare chest, lips soft on his skin, is particularly enticing. Tim might still be working to lay comfortably on the couch (not entirely possible, the couch may not squeak, but it doesn't provide much comfort either as far as sitting or laying on it goes), but there's nothing that would move him from the spot now.

"Let me know if this is all...good,” Brian says hesitantly, a finger tip resting on the waistband of Tim’s pants. That’s all that’s left to remove, and Tim’s nearly at a point to beg him to rip them off if he has to.

“I will,” Tim tries not to sound fussy or impatient, he really does. But he’s done so much bloody waiting today, that even another moment of it-

“Okay,” Brian chirps cheerfully, then leans down and sucks at Tim’s cock through his pants.

It’s not something he’s necessarily considered himself as ‘into’, messing about like this with clothes still partially on. Brian, however, might just make him a convert.

His whining stops Brian for a moment. “Alright?”

“You stopped,” Tim doesn’t even try to hide it now; he’s sick of waiting and feeling bratty about it. “Why on earth did you stop?”

“That wasn’t that good,” Brian chuckles. “Please,” Tim begs. There’s no other way about it; he’s begging now. “Just touch me; this is torture.”

Brian moves up his body, climbs onto him gently, long legs tangling with his, and frots against him slowly.

“You said you don’t do this often,” Tim gasps as he pulls Brian close by his hips.

“I don’t,” Brian giggles, hips moving still much too slowly, his cock hard against Tim’s. “I’m winging it. Going off of things I’ve thought about.”

“Thought about when?” Tim asks, though he can well guess. But he wants, needs, to hear it from Brian.

“At home, getting myself off,” Brian replies. “Thinking about you, and me. Sometimes Rog too.”

“So that’s not just me then,” Tim smiles.

“Not just you,” Brian smiles, but he’s tense, pulling his hips up and away more with each stroke. “I felt ridiculous some nights, you know?”

“Why’s that?”  “Because I couldn’t get you out of my head,” Brian says softly. “Like this, yeah, but...other ways. Stupid, little domestic ways. Sharing a flat, spending nights in together. Just...anything and everything.”

“You’re going to come, aren’t you?” Tim can’t help but tease.

Brian is flushed above him, barely able to grind his cock down against Tim’s without sighing or whining or moaning.

But he shakes his head quickly, seemingly more to convince himself than Tim.

“You can,” Tim says. “I fully intend to call Roger tomorrow morning and let him know we won’t be making it to practice. Plenty of time to recover and go again.”

Brian moans into his mouth as he kisses him, hips and cock rutting hard against him now in full contact, and within a moment he’s gone.

Tim hadn’t intended to come with him, but all it takes is the kiss and the feeling of Brian’s come warm through the material of his pants, and he’s there.

“Don’t stop,” Brian’s voice shudders and is muffled as he drops his head to Tim’s shoulder. “Keep moving. We won’t have to stop, probably.”

“Probably?” Tim asks, using his legs to hold Brian close, struggling to keep a rhythm. Even with the cloth in between them, it’s still oversensitive to keep moving as they are.

Brian’s hips stutter, but they don’t stop, and it’s wonderfully overwhelming. He resigns himself to letting Brian keep it all going, and drops his head back onto the couch, eyes closed.

For a moment, Brian stops, and Tim opens his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Brian replies as he lifts his head, voice and breath still shaky. “Just admiring the view.”

Tim can’t help but burst into giggles. It sounds ridiculous, hearing someone speak about him like that. But all the same, he’s absolutely delighted to hear it coming from Brian.

“Is it that pretty?”

“Breathtaking,” Brian sighs happily. “I really want to go again, I do-”

“We’ve got all night,” Tim says, and pulls Brian down for a kiss. “And tomorrow.”

“And tomorrow after that?” Brian asks so softly Tim can just hear him, and even then, it takes a moment for it to click, for him to realize what Brian is really asking.

He can only manage a nod at first, before the words finally flow. “Yeah. And tomorrow after that, and more, if you’ll have me.”

Brian nods quickly and grins, peppering him with kisses, before climbing off of him and pulling him off the couch.

It’s the slowest he’s ever walked to his room, but it’s worth it to take their time, interrupting it with kisses and wandering hands and stripping off their pants finally.

He knows it might not mean Brian is moving in right away, regardless of any domestic fantasies either of them have had.

But as he falls into bed with Brian, he knows it’s the start of something all the same, something wonderful and hopefully lasting (maybe even with the addition of Roger, if he’s truly wanting to join them for more than just a night or two.)

And he can’t wait for the rest of it.