WARNINGS: SMUT and HARASSMENT/VIOLENCE
John was in a bit of a pickle. He'd woken up after an hour-long nap with a dry mouth. He hated to admit that he slept with his mouth open, sometimes drooling if he was tired enough, but it was the truth. That meant he usually kept a glass of water on his bedside table for just such situations. Unfortunately, sleeping in Freddie's room had thrown off his usual routine, and there was no water on the nightstand. The bassist groaned when he lifted his head from Freddie's chest and saw there was no glass waiting for him.
The lack of water wasn't the true issue, though. John resigned himself to having to get up and get a cup of water from the kitchen, but he couldn't- not for lack of trying, but because Freddie's grip around his middle was too strong for John to break. That meant he was stuck, hence the pickle.
"Freddie," John tried whispering. He didn't really want to wake the singer up. Their time in the farmhouse was supposed to be relaxing to promote the best song writing conditions. That meant waking up when they were well rested and not a minute before. Also, Freddie looked much too peaceful while sleeping for John to truly want to disturb him. He was only hoping to stir the singer just enough to let him go.
'How did we even sleep like this?' John had to wonder. They were still in the position they had fallen asleep in. John hadn't intended to use Freddie as a mattress, and though the older brunet was rather comfortable, he wondered why Freddie hadn't moved them. Having all of John's weight on him couldn't have made for the best sleep. Despite that, Freddie seemed to be out cold even with John sleeping on top of him.
Freddie didn't so much as twitch at the sound of his name. Instead of getting louder, John did his best to extend his neck so he could get closer to Freddie's ear. "Freddie, please move."
Nothing. John sighed as he thought about his other options. He couldn't go back to sleep with an unpleasantly spongy tongue, and he wasn't really tired enough to drift off again anyways. He also didn't want to wake Freddie. The brunet decided to attempt to use his small size to his advantage. Maybe if he wiggled enough, he could easily slip out of Freddie's arms. It was worth a shot, even if the arms around him hugged his thin waist perfectly.
At first, John tried to push himself down, hoping to back off of the mattress and Freddie by moving backwards. That plan only resulted in Freddie squeezing him tighter. John blushed. The other man really didn't want to let him go. The thought made him feel even worse about having to get up, but he really couldn't deal with his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth any longer.
Steeling his resolve with the intention of make it up to Freddie later, John began his true wiggling. He rocked himself side-to-side, his hips swinging in an attempt to dislodge Freddie's arms. With all of the moving, he couldn't really tell if he was making progress or not, but he could tell that he wasn't anywhere near the edge of the bed yet.
A quiet hum caught John's attention and made him freeze. He slowly looked up at Freddie. Good. Still asleep. The bassist went to continue to wiggle, but something made him lose focus. John swore his entire body turned a bright red. His mind raced while also becoming completely blank as his mind struggled to process the situation. Freddie's erection pushed against John's squirming pelvis.
Apparently, Freddie was missing John's movements from before, hips inching towards John's in an attempt to keep up the contact. John stared at the singer with wide eyes. 'How is he still asleep!?' Because Freddie was definitely still asleep.
A sudden rough nudge had John gasping without meaning to. His own hips bucked forward without his consent in response. He didn't want to find pleasure in practically taking advantage of his sleeping boyfriend, but the friction felt so good. He quickly lost himself to the fog of their physical contact.
John did his best to keep quiet as they rutted against each other. His eyes and lips were closed tightly, his hands gripping Freddie's shirt for leverage. Freddie's body reacted on its own as well, pushing against John even in his sleep. John could feel how large the older brunet was, and the thought only sent the bassist spiraling beyond control.
The sound that came out of John's mouth as he reached completion was nearly a sob. He didn't have time to revel in his climax, though. Guilt and shame rushed in too quickly for that. His entire body went tense as he tucked his face away against Freddie's body, still unable to move away from the singer. He felt terrible for not being able to restrain himself. John was sure Freddie was going to think he was a creep.
"John? Are you awake?"
That beautiful voice would have made the bassist light up any other time. At the moment, John could only curl up tighter against Freddie. He couldn't even bring himself to look at the singer; he didn't want to see Freddie get upset with him. Knowing what was coming was bad enough.
"Y-Yeah," John answered, sounding not at all like himself from a combination of of his intense emotions and his till dry mouth.
He felt Freddie shift underneath him. "Darling? Are you okay?"
John shook his head because he wasn't okay. Freddie's arms finally moved from around him, instead being replaced by his warm hands. The singer's talented digits roamed over the lines of his back, easing the tense muscles gently.
"Did you have another nightmare?"
"No." John vaguely remembered that having a nightmare about Freddie had started his journey to sleeping in Freddie's room, but he couldn't put his finger on what the nightmare had been about.
"I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is, my dear." Freddie attempted to pull John away from his chest so they could look at each other. It was John's turn to cling to the other man. He held on for dear life, afraid it might be his last chance to do so. He felt Freddie's body slouch in concern, and he felt bad for making Freddie think that he needed to help when it was all John's fault. Maybe this was why he'd been single up until then? Perhaps John just wasn't boyfriend material.
"I'm the problem," John managed to whisper even as his throat ached for water. He tried to swallow in hopes of making it easier to talk with no such luck.
Freddie sat up quickly when he heard that, their sleeping position easily changing to a sitting position with John still straddling his thighs. It only reminded John of what he had done while the singer was asleep, and he felt tears sting his eyes. 'Should I say goodbye before he can?'
"John, what on Earth are you talking about?" Freddie was seriously concerned at that point. How could he not be when John wouldn't even look at him after saying such a morbid thing? An unhappy John was always cause for worry.
John was too embarrassed to explain even though he wanted to tell Freddie very badly. He didn't want his boyfriend to worry or think it he had done something wrong. The younger man shook his head helplessly, unable to communicate properly.
"If you don't tell me what's wrong in the next ten seconds, I'm going to lose my head," Freddie explained with a frantic tone in his voice that made John realize that the singer wasn't just being over-dramatic.
When he realized he had no other option but to tell Freddie, John's tears started flowing. 'At least I could enjoy our relationship while it lasted,' he thought to himself sadly. Slightly trembling at the thought of losing the person who meant the most to him, John reached out to take one of Freddie's hands. Freddie let him do as he pleased, not stopping him even as their hands moved between their two bodies. He did cough a little, though, when his hand landed on John's crotch.
"John, what-?"
"I'm sorry."
Freddie frowned at the defeated tone. He'd never heard John sound so hopeless, and it broke his heart. He still didn't understand what was making his love so upset. It took only a few seconds more of silence for Freddie to focus. What could John be trying to tell him?
He felt the wet spot. It was slightly colder than the dry parts of John's sleep pants, and Freddie was brought back to the rather enjoyable dream he had been having before he was woken up. He'd been just about to reach completion when is body decided it was time to wake up. 'Wait a minute...'
"Oh, you poor thing. Did you think I was going to be upset with you?" Freddie asked softly, his arms moving back into position around John's middle.
John's eyes went wide. The way Freddie spoke sounded like he wasn't upset...He wondered if the singer understood what exactly had happened. Unable to fully form a response, John nodded against Freddie's chest.
"Never, darling. I could never be upset with you for feeling good. You did enjoy it, didn't you? You're not upset because I forced you to do anything?" Freddie didn't think he had done anything in his sleep other than hold John close, but he had to be sure. He would hate himself if he'd made John uncomfortable.
"No!" John quickly pulled his head away from Freddie's chest. "I-I mean yes...I did enjoy myself, and no, you didn't force me...You're not upset?"
Freddie swore those gorgeous eyes could lead him to his death and he would die willingly. John was going to be the death of him. "I suppose I'm a bit upset that I didn't get to witness the sinful looks you must have had on your lovely face, but I'm not upset with you, darling. Are you alright?"
John took a moment to think about his answer. He was much better than before, all signs of crying gone from his face. He was a little surprised, but mostly happy that Freddie wasn't pushing him out of the bed. There was still some embarrassment there, though he knew Freddie would never judge him. Well, he knew now. John nodded. "Thirsty."
"I'll get you something to drink, love. Why don't you go clean up? Pick out some clean pajamas, and I'll be right back up."
It seemed almost too good to be true. John was hesitant to move away from the singer because of it. Freddie sensed his reluctance, so the older man began his quest to make John feel good. At least then the bassist wouldn't doubt himself.
John shuddered when Freddie started gently kissing up his jaw and lightly dragging his fingers across the small of his back. He couldn't help but arch towards the other man when he felt it. "Freddie..."
"You're always so enticing to me, my love. I'm happy you feel the same about me. Do I look just as handsome when I sleep?" Freddie asked teasingly after sucking on John's bottom lip just enough to make it swell beautifully.
"I can't imagine you ever looking less than handsome, Fred."
"Right answer, my dear." They grinned at each other happily, John's earlier plight completely forgotten. With one last kiss, Freddie gently slid John off of his lap so they could go their separate ways. John moved towards the bathroom while Freddie moved towards the stairs, the smiles never leaving their faces.
Freddie needed some time to himself. His fingers were itching for pencil and paper, and his best writing happened when he was alone. He didn't want to leave John, but they had come to the farm to eliminate distraction. The pair would certainly distract each other if they remained together. Freddie reminded himself that John really hadn't had a chance to sit down and write by himself yet. It was only fair to give everyone the time they needed.
"John, dear, I'm moving to the piano...Perhaps you'd like to relax in the room?" Freddie was trying to broach the subject without making it seem like he didn't want John around, because that simply wasn't true.
John smiled. "No need to beat around the bush. Go on and write, Freddie. I think I'll take a short walk outside. Maybe it will give me inspiration."
They shared a kiss before John put on his jacket and headed down the stairs in front of the bedroom. No one was out and about in the house, and he assumed Brian and Roger were doing their own writing. It was quiet inside and out. It would have been unsettling before, but John knew Freddie was waiting for him, alive, and well inside. He had a feeling the singer would drop everything if he asked him to, but the shy bassist needed some time away just as much as Freddie did; he needed time with his thoughts.
Paul watched from the window in his room as John took a stroll around the outside of the house. The bassist never went very far, though he did take frequent breaks to enjoy the view. While Roger had complained about the location when they first showed up, it seemed that all of them had come to enjoy some aspects of the house. It was peaceful if nothing else. The happy smile on John's face made Paul want to vomit. How could someone be so naive?
He'd been thinking about how to win Freddie over ever since the singer had rejected him that early morning in the studio. Paul knew the fastest way to get to Freddie would be to take John down first. If he could manipulate the bassist (which was bound to be much easier than going directly to Freddie), then he could manipulate Freddie. It was perfect.
The sly man made sure John was going to take another slow lap around the property before heading to the opposite side of the house where Freddie was. He could already hear the notes of the piano drifting through the building, certain keys being repeated while Freddie mulled over melodies in his head and tried to get them down on paper. Paul knew Freddie to be the calmest when he was at his bench, even if the last encounter hadn't gone entirely well.
"I thought I smelled something rancid," Freddie said aloud without looking up as he heard the distinct footsteps approach him. It was hard not to hear everything in the creaky old house. The steps were too heavy to be John or Brian's, and too slow to be Roger's. That left only one option. "Leave me alone before something of yours disappears, and I'm not talking about clothing."
"You can't avoid me forever, Freddie. We work together." That thought was keeping Paul going. As long as the band took to create their album, Paul would be in the same house as Freddie. It was better than a dream come true. It meant that he could keep trying until he got it right, though he hoped to accomplish his mission without the extra time.
The music didn't stop. "Why would I avoid you, sweetheart? This is my house for the time being, and that seems like an awful lot of effort for someone I don't like. No, no. I'll just pretend you don't exist. Much easier." Freddie wrote down a line before repeating the previous keys.
Paul felt his face heat up in anger. The pet name that would have usually sounded so sweet was said as if Freddie had been speaking to a child, like he didn't think Paul was worth his time. Paul was so used to getting his way. Men rarely turned him down, and no one ever disrespected him. He wanted to kiss Freddie and strangle him at the same time. Why wouldn't the man just cooperate? Knowing neither of those options would put him in good standing with the singer, Paul knew he had to put his backup plan into place. He refused to walk away in defeat again.
It was much too hard to go after Freddie directly. He'd have to sneak his way in using John just as he had planned. The tough act the bassist had put on the other day was impressive, but Paul doubted John would seriously do anything. The man was too soft...and too easy to take apart. Paul was going to make him crumble somehow, and it would happen right in front of Freddie.
"If you're thinking about kissing me again, you should kiss your ass goodbye. Or better yet, just say goodbye. Goodbye, Paul." Freddie waved a hand to dismiss him before returning all of his attention to his work on the bench.
"I'll see you later, Freddie." That was a promise. Paul turned on his heel and walked away. He wasn't defeated that time, because he had a plan, or at least the start of one. Freddie's heart would be his, and John Deacon would be broken.
John's mind had drifted off to his encounter with Roger earlier. Just as Freddie had predicted, the bassist felt bad about the things he had said. He knew Roger was just looking for a fight, and that he shouldn't have let the childish drummer get under his skin. He couldn't take back what had already happened, though. John was definitely going to apologize, but he needed to do better than a simple 'I'm sorry'. During their time at the farm, they'd only grown closer as a band- as a family- and John was grateful for each one of them. He couldn't imagine facing all of this alone, and he was glad they were there to support him, even if it meant Roger riling him up sometimes.
'Oooh you're my best friend...' John was humming to himself before he even realized he was putting something together. The words flowed quickly, as if he had sung them before, but he couldn't ever remember doing so. It was sappy, but the words rang true, and they made John feel better about the spat earlier. No matter what, the others would be there for him, and he would be there for them. He'd found love in many different forms after joining the group, and he wanted to share it with them all.
He hurried inside to find something to write on. He remembered Brian leaving a notepad in the kitchen at some point, and he hoped it was still there. The grey-eyed man didn't bother taking off his shoes or his coat when he walked in, too focused on not forgetting his song. He needed to get it all written down so he could try to put some music behind the words and make it all come together.
"Yes!" John whispered to himself in quiet victory when he spotted the discarded notepad on the counter near the sink. He clutched it to his chest in excitement while his eyes roamed the nearby area for a pen or pencil. There was nothing that he could see. Quickly, John began opening the drawers, hoping for one filled with random items that might include a writing utensil. "Come on, come on..."
"A lovely view," Paul said with a smirk as he leaned in close to give John's arse a pinch. He'd seen John come racing in, and he knew he had to act or risk losing his chance. Freddie wasn't too far away, just up the stairs. Paul could set things into motion, cause a ruckus, and Freddie would come downstairs at just the perfect moment.
John gasped and jumped, his hands flying to his backside as he quickly stood up and turned around. "What are you doing!?" he shrieked in disbelief. A mix of embarrassment, humiliation, fear, and anger raged through him. No one was allowed to touch him like that except for Freddie, though Roger had gotten away with it a few times when trying to lighten the mood. John certainly didn't think it was funny in this situation.
"Hush, darling." The way Paul attempted to copy Freddie's term of endearment made John feel nauseous. "You wouldn't want your lover to hear you."
"What are you talking about? You touched me!" John backed himself up towards the counter to keep his rear protected, but that only backed him into the corner Paul wanted him in. The smile Paul had on his face made John want to run for it. Christ, the man was creepy.
Paul nodded in satisfaction when he heard the piano keys go silent. Freddie must have heard the commotion. A little more noise, and he would surely be coming down to check at any moment. He couldn't have John screaming at him, though. It wouldn't play in his favor that way. Instead, Paul reached over, knocked everything on the counter to the ground, and went in for the kill. The huge clatter that followed covered John's muffled scream as Paul lifted him forcefully onto the counter top, his thick hands clutching John's thin wrists hard enough to bruise, and kissed him.
John tried his hardest to pull away from Paul, but the back of his head smacked against the cabinet before he could get too far. He squirmed despairingly, and Paul only pushed against him harder. His wrists were moved to one of Paul's hands before they were tugged above his head and pushed against the cabinet door his head was forced into. When he tried to kick, Paul used his free hand to grasp his thigh with a grip that was just as painful at the rest of the experience. To top it all off, the mustached man rocked against him in a way that pushed him further and further back. John couldn't fight it, so he gave up. Accepting his fate, he closed his eyes to avoid facing reality, and hoped that it would be over soon.
"John?"
John would know that voice anywhere. The panic he felt only grew as his eyes snapped open to reveal a shocked Freddie standing right at the bottom of the stairs with a perfect view of the position he was in. There was no need to push Paul away. Paul pulled away himself, his grip still tight on John's legs and wrists.
"Oh, Freddie! Sorry. I guess we got a little carried away. Isn't that right, John?" Paul's grin was nowhere near sane. "This one's insatiable."
John couldn't look at his love. He couldn't bear to see the look of betrayal on Freddie's face. Perhaps the man was even embarrassed about having such a weak person as a partner? What did words matter if John couldn't defend himself when the time came? John closed his eyes again.
There was no sign of betrayal or disappointment on Freddie's face, however. There was only deep concern and unbridled rage. He knew instantly that John hadn't been a willing party. His love had a low physical pain tolerance, and whatever Paul had done would definitely leave marks. Freddie wanted to hold John and take care of him, but he was torn between who to take care of first. Knocking Paul's lights out did seem like a rather good first option.