“Freddie’s got two Siamese cats called Tomas and Jerry, but John doesn’t like animals.”
Brian May Interview, 1977.
“Freddie’s got two Siamese cats called Tomas and Jerry, but John doesn’t like animals.”
Brian May Interview, 1977.
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freddie, arrived an hour ago: bitch!?
The scent is undeniable.
Freddie can tell that Brian and Roger have noticed; Brian has politely excused himself from the studio, clearly hot under the collar, and Roger is wrinkling his nose as he quickly packs up.
John is placing his bass back into its case, his cheeks flushed and his pupils slightly dilated.
“John, darling,” Freddie says quietly, trying not to embarrass the bassist. “Are you alright?”
John gives a tired smile. “Yeah. I’m just a bit queasy. Probably because it’s so hot in here.”
Freddie places his hand over John’s, his skin warm to the touch. “Deaky, I think you’re going into heat.”
John’s eyes widen, shame washing over his face. “Um…I’m not sure-“
“Your scent, darling. I can smell that you’re going into heat.”
John bites his lip, looking utterly humiliated.
“Oh no no no, darling.” Freddie pulls John close, the scent of omega filling his nostrils. “It’s alright. Have you had a heat before?”
“Not for a while,” John sniffs. “They’re a bit irregular.”
“It’s alright, John. We’ll get you home and take care of you.”
John gives a weak smile, shy, but the trust in his eyes is clear.
roger: *hands brian a piece of paper* read it to me out loud
brian: *confused* I do?
roger: *appears again in a suit*
john: *appears suddenly dressed as a priest* you are now husband and husband
freddie: *crying* MAGNIFICENT, DARLINGS
Answer me this:
Deacury, Frian, Froger?
warning: slight slight slight slight (slight!) smut… not really… just a lot of kissing
John gasped as Freddie leaned in suddenly and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before diving in for more. They had been sat on his piano and John had pressed a few keys and sang some lines to his in-progress song ‘You’re My Best Friend’ which, obviously, was about Freddie.
John recipotated, of course, placing his hand on the side of Freddie’s face before rubbing it ever so softly. He then brought his hand through the older man’s gorgeous dark locks and hummed into the wet kiss.
“You’re..so..beautiful.” Freddie whispered in between kisses, causing John’s tummy to feel tingly. Freddie had a certain power over him which made him feel all jittery. A good jittery, most definitely.
John cooed and leant in closer to his lover, meshing their faces together. They loved moments like this, when neither had a care in the world; He was John, he was Freddie, and no fucker in this universe could take that away from them. They were utterly and completely in love.
Freddie lowered his hands to John’s behind, causing the younger man to yelp and lean into his touch. And then, Freddie lifted him up and placed him on the top of the piano. John moaned, this being one of his many naughty fantasies.
Freddie kneeled on the piano stool, never tearing their wild moving lips away from eachother. One second apart was too long for both of them. They wanted to stay in his lovely, hot moment forever.
The singer leant down, pushing John down beneath him so they were practically lying down on Freddie’s shiny pristine piano. If Roger and Brian were to walk in now they would scream.
“I want you,” John mananged to sigh as Freddie made his way down his neck towards the top of his chest.
“Lets go to the bedroom then, baby.”
Can you tell I have a thing for the pet name ‘baby’?
Look at them 💕
pairing/s: platonic! deacury, side! johnica
summary: john has the lowest of low days that always happens on this particular day
warning/s: ANGST, so much angst, depression, some cute parts but BARELY, mentions of death
John wakes up feeling empty.
Sunlight peeks through the window curtains, bringing in little light in the dark room that almost resembled how he felt. He sighs deeply, trying and failing to get his heavy aged body out of the comforts of his bed. Laying flat on his back, he stares blankly at the ceiling. Empty thoughts in an empty body.
The door opens to reveal his son, Luke, who approaches him slowly. The young man sits on the edge of his parents’ bed, laying his hand to pat the soft belly of his dad.
“Da, Ma made breakfast for us, would you like to join us?” Luke asks him, saddened that his dad always became so depressed during this particular day. John faces his son, his face devoid of any emotion. He nods without a word and raises his arms to be helped up. The boy didn’t hesitate to help him up and even went out of his way to help him to the dining room.
John closes his eyes as he walked through the hallway, carefully avoiding the picture frames hanging on the wall that showed times that were no more. Each step made his heart and body heavier, making him cling onto Luke more and more.
Sitting around the long dining table were all of his children picking petty fights with one another whilst Veronica was serving out the breakfast she made. The whole room went dead silent as John and Luke walk in, each of them saying a ‘Good morning, Da’ or a 'How are you, Da?’. Everyone sadly watches as their dad struggles to sit down on the head chair.
Veronica presses a kiss on his temple and places his favourite cheese on toast in front of him. When he looks up from his lap, John see how quiet his family was and couldn’t help but feel awful that it was because of him.
John finds himself sitting down on his reclining chair, thinking about everything and nothing. His gaze unfocuses as he remembers a time that was long gone.
He felt a presence sit down next to him on the couch, his arms immediately wrapping around him and pulling him into an embrace.
“What are you thinking about, Johnny?” Freddie asked him as his hands played with John’s long hair. He sighed, snuggling closer to the older man and relaxing on top of him. The background chatter of Brian and Roger almost lulled him to sleep, except for the random yells from a certain dirty blond.
“Nothing in particular, Dee.” John replied, allowing his heavy eyes shut close and doze off on Freddie. The older man hummed a soft tune, caressing his back and leaning back against the arm of the sofa to lay them down. They both napped comfortably together that day.
“John, darling, would you come over here please?” Freddie called out, luring John back into the studio after laying his bass down. Walking in, he was immediately dragged down to sit on Freddie’s lap and he didn’t complain; It was a normal occurrence that nobody questioned it anymore. “What do you think of these lyrics?”
John looked down on the crumpled piece of paper, worn down with smudges and thinned by too much erasing. He cocked his head as he read the piece of poetry in front of him, mouthing the words to get a feel of the emotion in the text. He smiled at Freddie when he finished, inputting his thoughts on how to improve it and praising the parts that were untouchable.
Freddie looked at him with his soft brown eyes and a gentle grin on his face. He affectionately kissed John’s cheek in thanks.
A few days later, Freddie showed John the finished piece, not forgetting to say, “Thank you so much for your help, love,” and went off to record it with the rest of the boys.
Freddie approached John and Veronica right after the traditional parts of the reception were over.
“Ronnie, you look absolutely stunning in your dress!” He complimented, holding her hand and twirling her around to see the whole dress. The giggled together when Veronica stumbled a bit and John gently balanced her. He winked at the groom and wrapped an arm around the bride, “You better do right by her, Deaky. I don’t care if you’re my best friend, you act like an asshole, you get an ass kick from me, you understand?”
“Yes, Freddie, I understand.” John chuckled, watching the older man say the exact same thing to his wife- God, his wife- and pulled them both to the dance floor to bust out some moves with all of their friends.
“Disco is not an option!” Roger angrily said, glaring at both Freddie and John. Brian was off to a corner, rubbing his temples as the stress for their album overwhelmed him. John scoffed and crossed his arms, glaring right back at the blond man.
“And why is that?” Freddie asked, genuinely confused and curious as to why Roger was opposed to the idea of doing a disco album. He watched as the younger man opened his mouth to say something, but no explanation left his lips. John smirked at him, satisfied with the look of annoyance directed at him.
John reached out to grab his bass, tuning out the pathetic whining of the blond and the eventual yelling as Brian couldn’t deal with Roger’s bitching any longer. He focused on a riff that had been circulating in his mind for a while, figuring out the vague lyrics that came with it.
Freddie pulled a chair to sit close to him, listening intently to the riff that the brunet was playing.
D D D D-D D A, D D D D-D D A
“That sounds promising, John. Do you have the lyrics for that?” Freddie looked at him, giving him a smile as he nodded his head to the sound of the beat. John shook his head no, and the older man regarded him thoughtfully.
“I’ll help you with it.”
And so, Under Pressure was created.
John slowly walked into Freddie’s bedroom at the Garden Lodge, bracing himself for the sight he dreaded to see. Laying there on the king sized bed was a sickly Freddie, tended by a caring Jim who left to give them privacy. The two husbands looked up to see John, Brian, and Roger coming in. Their oldest friend smiled at them, coughing out once again before waving them closer.
“My boys, how have you been?” Freddie asked them, his eyes watery as he held in another cough. John sat down next to him, his grey worried eyes looking down to the thin and boney body of his dearest friend.
“Don’t worry about us, Fred. How are you?” Brian frowned, sitting on the other side. Roger sat by Freddie’s feet, patting his calves and wincing at how he could feel his bones right through his skin. Freddie chuckled and waved their concern away.
“How can I not worry about you three? I’m practically dead and you’re all going to be so sad you’d think of following with me, which I am not condoning,” Freddie warned, narrowing his eyes at all three of them.
“Freddie, don’t say that!” John said, his voice wavering as he gets choked up in the feeling of helplessness. He wanted to save Freddie, to take his pain away and make him happy, but he knows he can’t. There’s only so much he could do before it’s too late, and that’s what frightens him the most.
Freddie softened at John’s sniffles, opening his arms and allowing the younger man to fall into them and cry on his chest. He heard soft whines from the two other men and lifted up and arm to take all three of them in. They were wary of crushing the weak man, but thankfully, Freddie wasn’t bothered by it.
“Oh, I’m sorry I said that, but really lovelies, you have to prepare yourselves,” Freddie said as he rubs John’s back with one hand and played with Brian’s curls in the other. “I feel like there isn’t much time left.”
Three days later, he was gone.
John closes his eyes and leans back heavily against the reclining chair, feeling the familiar burn in his eyes as he tries to stop the tears from falling down. He hears a loud shuffling in the room and reluctantly opening his eyes, feeling a lone tear fall. He sees his children filling the room and sitting close to him; Robert, Michael and Laura pulls chairs
just like the way he used to and sat close to him; Joshua, Luke, and Cameron sits by his feet, leaning their heads on his knees with need to comfort their Da. Lastly, Veronica walks in, smiling softly at the sight of her family in front of her, and sits on the grandma chair right next to John’s. She reaches out to hold his hand in hers and caresses the details that she memorized throughout their years together.
John feels his heart full of love and sadness from his family adding onto his own woes from this day. So he cries it out, allowing himself to wallow in the pain of not being able to celebrate happily of what would have been Freddie’s 73th birthday surrounded by their close friends and family.
Alas, the world was cruel and now, he was left with an incurable wound deep in his heart.
originally published on my wattpad - @sherlockthefish which is also another blog of mine from a while ago.
i know this won’t make much sense, but its alright i guess
you are my temptation,
my forbidden fruit.
you are the one thing i cannot have.
you are the one thing i want.
you are my paradox.
you are the feeling i can’t put a name on.
you are the rattling of the bars in my head at night,
you are my insomnia.
you are the fruit of my heartache.
i lie awake. unlike me.
i’m tired, but my brain won’t let me sleep.
all i can see behind my eyes is your face.
i can see your hair, swaying slightly as your fingers make music on the strings.
i can feel the vibrations of the sound running through my body, the adrenaline high that washes over me.
i can feel the crash of the waves as it falls.
my thoughts are poetic, i am thinking to myself.
it makes sense.
i write lyrics.
i write musical poetry.
you are poetic.
the way you move makes me want to write a thousand words.
i could write pages about your laugh.
i could write novels about the eyes, the emotions i see in them.
the words rattle in my head at night like metal, slamming into my brain.
i can’t even remember half the day.
the way that your lips part when you concentrate.
the way your eyes flutter shut for a moment when you think,
not a blink.
just a pause, and an unintentional rhyme.
rhymes are for songs, not diaries.
not that this is a diary.
diaries have plots, storylines.
this is just my brain.
this is just words.
words of you.
you, my sweet addiction.
you, the rose with bloody thorns.
you, the fruit of my heartache.
the fruit of my heartache, falling to the ground.
i am lonely
the words slip off my tongue like a duck to water
oh how i want to love you
talk to you for hours on end
not that you’d ever care to speak more words than are necessary
to me, at least
it’s not like i know you.
i just know you.
you know i don’t make sense.
no you don’t
when did this become about you
this always happens.
i want to forget.
no i don’t
i can’t remember how to anyway
i can’t remember how to forget
i’m just sad
sad enough to wish i could fall asleep forever,
even if it meant a lifetime of nothing
its better than waking up to an endless nightmare
its not really a nightmare
into this oblivion when its late
this oblivion where everything is dark and nothing is light
save for the torch that illuminates this page
save for the words that sitting in the cage
save for the noise that ruins the rhythm
think of something else
there’s not much else to think of
i snuffed out my candle.
put out my light.
maybe yours was a cigarette.
but i have nothing in the night.
except for the rhymes that live on my tongue,
come out to make a fool of me when i know that i’m wrong.
rhymes that don’t make sense but make too much sense in my brain.
i know he doesn’t understand because nothing is the same
but what would i know?
it’s not like i know.
who he is.
but he knows me and my tiny being,
or so i hope,
but i know,
he doesn’t think of me when it’s dark at three am.
i make up a perfect tragic fantasy.
but it’s not like that,
i will stay in my pit of loneliness because she took my ladder away.
and i can’t make a new one
i’m staying in here today
rolling down my face like a teenage love story.
ripping through my heart
i’m writing for the sake of it.
making up lies that never existed from the start.
of the keys on the typewriter
a typewriter illuminated in the glow from the stupid life i’m making up.
none of it existed ever.
he’s like this with everyone
stop clinging to what you think is true.
he’ll catch on soon enough.
you know he will.
you’ll never be enough.
let the tears pool in your eyes.
let them tear you apart.
you’ll never be enough, you know that.
you’ll never be enough.
you want me to do but i know,
i can’t help but see,
that you don’t need me.
i’m staring at the ceiling and my back has curved into a c shape
what, you ask?
i just need attention.
just need you to look in my eyes and pretend that you love me
just want to be
i want to be on top of the world like nobody can be.
i want to have someone i love, there to
catch me if i fall.
the spaces exist in my head, on the page but i don’t know
if you read this
how would you space it
does spacing really matter?
well all i can see in my head
empty expanses of nothing that stretch for aeons of stupidity and nothing and i hate myself is
plastered across the walls of my room till it’s all i can read.
the words are ingrained in my head
maybe they all want me dead.
i’m singing this in my head like a broadway number, just wanting time to pass.
i’ve never been to broadway.
i used up all the air in my cave
singing my theoretical song
but its all theoretical air.
that i’m breathing from my c shaped lungs that don’t make any sense because my body needs sleep but you know what i don’t want to
i can breathe
i’ll lie down for a while.
the rain pours down around me.
do you remember when i called you that night?
screaming your name into the phone
taking refuge in a telephone box from the
that chilled my soul to the bone.
not even you could warm it up.
honest to god
i can’t believe you
i can’t believe you leave me lying alone when i try
try so hard to make you love me
i miss you
other side of the world
a few miles away
connected by a telephone cord
by a string
that could snap at any time
the connection is lost
from the thunderstorm
i can’t tell if you can hear it
all i can hear is the
crashing to the ground
and your screams
like its all you’ve got to hold on to
and i want so bad to come and help you
but i don’t know where you are
what you mean
who you are
honest to god
we are just fragments of a story
honest to god
i want to help
but i don’t know how
to the people who sit alone
waiting for their time to be up
falling away to the grasp of another lover
who never loved you
to the people who search
for another label to love themselves with
but the writing on the paper fades.
to the people who want
want but can’t get
their head around what’s inside of their head
to the people who watch
watch the world but don’t quite understand it
almost get there but fall down in the aftermath of love
and i’ve only felt it
as a flame that burnt out after a while
can it be reignited?
but i don’t know if i fell in love
or if just can’t get enough of you.
the person who never knew and won’t regret
never making ties with them at the end
the knot slips loose and i fall out
you never missed it was just doubt
i don’t want to feel
if you can’t feel
what i want you to
i’m the one that you hate
i’m the one that you love
i’m the one you don’t know but you can’t get enough
in my dreams
you’re on repeat
oh i miss you but i don’t know
why you never show
you hate me
how you love me
how you need me
maybe i’m just insignificant
the romanticised truth isn’t far from a lie.
the people like me
to the unloved
forever drowning in our misery
or forgetting how to swim in confidence
i’ll see you another time
and even though we breathe the same air
we see different skies
i can’t see your outlook on life
and you can’t see mine
i see the same sky as the unloved.
pick it up.
i finally called you.
and you didn’t pick up.
sorry if it’s me.
just pick up the phone.
i need you
need to hear your voice
can’t hold onto the
for much longer
just pick up the phone.
“Okay. So we talked about semi-public humiliation as a possible punishment. How does that sound?”
John bites his lip and nods. It sounds horrible, but this is supposed to be a punishment after all. And it can’t possibly be worse than the things his last Dom made him do.
Freddie squeezes John’s hand. “Perhaps we could get you to do something in front of Brian and Rog? I have some toys you could use, and maybe you could put on a bit of a show for us.”
John can feel the blood rush to his face. “Yes, Master.”
“Or maybe not.” Concern fills Freddie’s voice. “You don’t sound very comfortable with that, John.”
John swallows. “It’s meant to be a punishment.”
“It is. But it’s meant to teach you a lesson, not break you. You can say no, John. Your punishments need to be things you’re comfortable with. And I can understand why this would be something you’re uncomfortable with.”
John looks at his hands in his lap. “I’m ok being naked in front of Brian and Roger…that would be a punishment in itself. But I’d rather not do anything like that in front of them.”
Freddie nods. “Fair enough. Why don’t we just say a day without clothes then? You can just go about your day as normal. Hopefully that won’t be too horrible but something you can manage?”
John gives a small smile. “I’ll try, Master.”
I think we missed out bigtime when we decided to call the John/Freddie ship Deacury instead do Freaky/Freacy. Just a thought
John sees Freddie shirtless for the first time just before one of their very early gigs. Because they’re an unknown band, they usually only get the one dressing room so the Doms and subs have to change together.
When John catches a glimpse of Freddie without a shirt, he can’t help but blush. He’s always been attracted to manly Doms, and body hair is definitely a big turn-on for John. He spends most of the gig imagining what it might be like to fall asleep against that chest with his cheek pressed against Freddie’s chest hair…
“I wanna lay where she lays.” 💞