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If You Insist On Knowing My Bliss

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At first, it was an honest mistake; Brian had thought everyone had already left and was just looking for his necklace. The only problem was that Roger and John had thought the same thing, which is why the blonde had no problem playfully pushing his boyfriend up against the wall of the vacant dressing room. As things were heating up between the couple and clothes were being discarded to be forgotten on the floor, Brian was walking down the hall to unexpectedly interrupt the scene. Maybe it was just that Brian was too focused on finding his accessory that he simply ignored the muffled, questionable sounds coming from sliver of space where the door had been left open, or maybe there was some curious part of the guitarist that knew exactly what was happening and made a split decision to see who was in the room without even considering the consequences. 

The real reason didn't actually matter as Brian pushed the door open, producing an awfully loud creaking sound. Time seemed to stand still as everybody froze, the sound of the band's two youngest members heavy breathing being the only sound filling the tense atmosphere. Brian eyes flickered between Roger and John, the latter two, having turned their heads around to look at the guitarist, both staring back at him. John looked like a deer caught in headlights; but Brian couldn't really blame him, the shy bassist had been caught standing with his pants down and his boyfriend inside him by one of his best friends. Roger didn't seem as horrified, but Brian could tell there was a shift in his usual snarky confidence as he gripped onto the bassist's hips, seemingly trying to shift John's body to save him a little modesty. 

The moment really only lasted a few seconds, but for all three of them it felt more like an eternity. Brian, completely flustered, quickly turned on his heel and briskly walked back down the hallway. He wasn't sure which was worse; ruining the moment by walking in on two of his best friends having sex in their dressing room, or the fact that the image burned into his mind was making something inside him stir with arousal. The guitarist was so in his head trying to process what just happened that he almost didn't even register walking past their oldest member.

"Brian!" Freddie called, peeling himself away from his conversation with a roadie to walk with the tall guitarist. "Hey, I thought everyone had gone home."

"Me too," Brian sighed, not bothering to slow his pace. "But I'm certainly leaving now."

"Why?" Freddie questioned, trying to keep up with his much shorter legs. "Did something happen?"

"Just don't go in our dressing room," Brian mumbled. He barely heard Freddie's noise of confusion as he walked out the door into the warm summer air.

Despite Roger having driven all of them to the venue, Brian decided it was best to avoid confronting what had just happened by walking home. It took him over an hour and his feet ached by the time he reached his flat, feeling soaked in sweat and oppressed by the humid climate of the season. Once he finally made it inside, the air felt somehow even worse and more stiff inside his cheap, poorly ventilated flat. Brian went straight to his bed, plopping himself down on the soft sheets, not caring about how disgusting he was at the moment. 

All he wanted was to fall asleep and forget everything, but the event consumed more and more of his mind as he writhed around on the mattress. But it wasn't even what he saw that clouded his thoughts; it was actually the idea of what happened before he came in and the general notion of Roger and John being intimate. Brian knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't be thinking any sort of thoughts like that about his friends. He wanted to be disgusted at himself but the more his imagination ran wild, the more his pants grew tighter. The guitarist couldn't hold back any longer and reached down to unzip his trousers, but was abruptly interrupted by his phone ringing. 

"What?" Brian grunted into the phone, not even caring who was on the other end of the line. He had been confused and frustrated the whole night, and a mysterious caller at nearly three in the morning had almost completely set him off. 

"Oh don't be so cross with me," Freddie's elegant voice crackled over the phone. "I just wanted to check up on you, did you walk home?"

"Yeah," Brian sighed, lying back into the mattress.

"What the hell happened?" Freddie exclaimed. "You know you can tell me anything, Bri." His tone switch tugged at Brian's heart, remembering just how much the singer cared about him, and all of his friends for that matter.

"I know," Brian whispered, guilt creeping up on him once again. "But it's really not that big of a deal, Fred. You don't have to worry about me."

Freddie hummed on the other end of the line, clearly not buying the story. "Well I'm always going to worry about you. But I won't press you on it if you don't want to tell me. I better see you at band practice tomorrow, though."

"Of course," Brian smiled, forgetting his friend couldn't actually see him. "Goodnight, Freddie."

"Goodnight, get some sleep!" Brian could almost hear the cheeky grin as the line went silent. He put the phone back on the receiver and tried in earnest to actually fall asleep, the pale, twinkling stars in the sky peeking through the window providing him some sort of comfort.


Brian almost fell out of his bed at the shocking, boisterous knocking on his door. He scrambled to stand up, groaning at the bright sunlight filling his flat. As he stumbled unceremoniously into the hallway, the front door swung open to reveal the flamboyant singer standing in his doorway standing with his hands placed poignantly on his hips. 

"I know I said I'd back off, but you've seriously got me worried now," Freddie rambled, closing the door behind him and moving to sit on the small couch. "It's almost noon, you didn't answer any of my calls, you missed band practice and I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong."

Brian sighed, looking up at the ceiling and debating telling Freddie everything, still standing in the hallway. The singer cleared his throat to gain the curly-haired man's attention and patted the spot next to him on the couch. The guitarist let out a loud sigh, and begrudgingly moved to curl up on himself on the couch. His friend stayed silent, giving Brian the opportunity to start the conversation. Brian buried his head in his hands with his elbows propped up on his knees before finally admitting, "Last night I walked in on Roger and John, doing you know...and I think I want to sleep with both of them."

The silence after his statement was almost deafening, and Brian was sure he'd never felt more embarrassed. As the seconds passed on with no response from his best friend, he was convinced Freddie was simply thinking about how to find a replacement after kicking him out of the band. He was about to speak up and try to dig himself out the whole he'd put himself in when the singer gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Brian, I didn't even know you were into men," his voice seemed quieter than Brian had ever heard it. 

"I didn't either," he confessed. "But I can't stop thinking about it, thinking about them...together. And adding myself to the equation."

"As much as I'd love to help you with this," Freddie sighed, "I think the only thing to do is tell them."

Brian's head shot up at the suggestion, giving Freddie a bewildered look. "Are you absolutely mad? They'll never want to see my face again if I tell them. What could even say? 'Hey, I saw you guys fucking and now I wanna join in on the fun'?"

"Well if it's affecting you this much, you've got to do something! And we've both known Roger long enough to know that he'd never be that upset with you," Freddie replied, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. 

"What about John?" Brian retorted, deflating back into the couch and crossing his arms. "He looked humiliated when I walked in, I'm not even sure I can face him without bringing up my feelings."

Freddie seemed to have an epiphany and Brian felt nervous at the grin that spread across his face. Before the guitarist had time to assume what his friend was thinking, Freddie bolted from the couch to the phone on the wall. Brian watched in horror as the singer hastily punched in a number they both knew all too well. He finally got his wits and stood up as Freddie smiled at the crackly voice coming through the speaker. 

"Roger?" Freddie quipped, staring at Brian as the tall man now loomed over him. "Brian would like to talk to you." Freddie handed Brian the phone, quickly scurrying towards the door. "Sorry, Bri, I had to do it!" He shouted over his shoulder as he hurriedly exited the flat.

Brian inwardly cursed at the oldest member of their group, knowing it had to happen but upset that his friend had decided to put it in motion for him. He shakily brought the phone to his ear, biting his lip and hoping he'd still have any friends after this.

" Brian? "