Work Text:
Brian woke up to the sounds of heavy rain, loud thunder, and John Deacon singing under his breath. He can't hear Freddie and Roger walking around the house, so he assumes it's early morning and that he woke up because of the rattling of the old house every time thunder strikes. It almost feels as if Ridge Farm is going to fall down every time a storm like this rolls around, the old farmhouse is most definitely not the sturdiest building, and Brian can't help but miss his flat back in London. As much as he appreciates being able to go outside holding John's hand, or kiss the younger man as much as he likes because of the lack of people around them to judge him, he misses the city.
He also gravely misses being able to talk with other humans apart from his bandmates and Paul Prenter, but that is not important at the moment. Not when he finds himself comfortably curled up in bed with his boyfriend.
He feels as John scribbles something on his notebook, making the whole bed shake with the motion, and then he is back to singing under his breath again. He must be composing a new song then. Brian rolls over to bury his face on John's side, and the younger man chuckles at his behaviour, "Sorry, did I wake you up?"
His voice is low and raspy, sending shivers down Brian's spine. He wonders how long John had been awake, and why, rather than cuddle up to Brian as he always did when he woke up first did he decide to roll over and start composing. He feels a pout beginning to appear in his face, and he nuzzles deeper into John's tighs. He feels his boyfriends long fingers tangle up in his hair, but he still can't seem to draw his attention away from whatever song he currently finds himself writing.
He gives his boyfriend's thigh a playful nip when he doesn't get more than fingers tangling themselves in his hair, which makes John let out a loud guffaw, "I can't believe I've managed to get myself such an attention whore."
Brian doesn't dignify that statement with a retort, so instead, he reaches over to slap the book out of John's hands, "It's too early for you to be working on something."
"Oh yeah?" John leans over to put his notebook on the nightstand, and Brian knows he has won, "Says who?"
He cracks open one eye once he doesn't feel John moving to cuddle up to him. The younger man is staring at him with something akin to adoration in his eyes; long hair tucked behind both his ears and wearing a too-large shirt that Brian sure belonged to him. In the dim light of the room, John looks like everything Brian had ever wanted and more. He reached over and grabbed the hem of John's t-shirt and brought him down so that he could cuddle with him. John went down without a complaint, wrapping his arms around Brian as soon as he was in a comfortable enough position to do so.
Brian let his eyes seal shut, allowing the sleepiness to win over him as he felt the bassist press soft kisses to his neck. He was nearly asleep when the next thunderbolt struck, making them both jump and knocking their heads together. The lamps flickered and died, and so did the heater in the corner. At first, Brian found himself miffed over the fact that he would have to feel the cold and damp atmosphere in the basement. Then the realisation that they couldn't exactly work without any electricity hit him, and he nearly felt like jumping out of bed and screaming in joy.
It's not like he didn't want to finish the album, in fact, A Night at the Opera had been up until now his favourite album to record. But at that moment he would much rather stay in bed cuddling with John for the rest of the day. That is until John let out a small sigh in disappointment, "I really wanted to show you my song."
His boyfriend's dejected tone made his heart ache, and he reached over to hug John tighter against himself, "I'm sure the electricity will come back at some point."
"Freddie and Roger have been helping me finish it."
"What? The song?"
Brian felt John nod, "I think you'll like it. I hope you will."
"I probably will," Brian said, trying not to let the disappointment in his voice show at the fact that his boyfriend was making a song without him. Ever since the America incident, he had had a hard time feeling as if he really deserved a spot in his band and knowing that they were working behind his back didn't help him at all. It almost felt as if he was back recording Sheer Heart Attack, and listening to the songs after they were finished and realising that he wasn't needed as much as he thought he was.
"What is the song about?"
John hummed, "Can't say."
"No, come on." Brian tapped John's lower back, "I want to know. It's the least you can do."
John leaned back to look at Brian, "What does that mean?"
Busted, Brian cringed, "It means that I really want to know what your song is about."
John scooched back a little bit. Not enough to stop hugging Brian, but just enough that he could look at him in the eye, " Brian."
" Fine," He scoffed, "promise not to laugh?"
"Cross my heart."
He felt as if he was in kindergarten, ready to confess the silly reason for the tantrum he had just had. He knew that trying to bury his face into John's chest would only make him seem more childish, as would running away from the conversation. He had had several, long, talks with his psychologist lately about this exact thing, and he couldn't let himself fall into the same pattern he had when they were recording Sheer Heart Attack. The feeling of being useless had nearly killed him back then.
"It's just—" he tried looking for the words, wanting to phrase it as best as he could, "I don't like it when you record songs without me. I hate how it makes me feel like I'm replaceable. Like I'm not important."
"Brian, how could you ever think that you are not important to the band? To me?"
Brian shrugged. He hadn't wanted to ruin their beautiful morning. Not when he could have just stayed quiet and listened to the sound of the rain falling against the windows as he fell asleep in his boyfriend's arms. But then again, he had a nasty habit of not knowing when to shut his mouth.
"It reminds me of..." Brian cleared his throat, "Nobody else can play bass in the band, neither can they play the drums or sing as Freddie does. Everyone knows how to play the guitar, and if the worst came to pass, you could all record the guitar pieces for me, and then hire some guitar player to do the rest on stage."
At Brian's admission, John's face fell. The older man hated when that happened. When the crinkles in John's eyes would smoothen completely, the corner of his lips would twitch down, and his eyes filling with worry. However, this time something more filled his eyes apart from worry, it was a sense of guilt and regret, which made something squirm inside Brian. The bassist reached over to cup Brian's face, "Oh, love, I'm so sorry."
It was stupid; Brian knew that. He shouldn't be feeling like this over a simple song just because he didn't participate in it. Many songs had been like that even before Brian's run with Hepatitis, and John couldn't have meant anything by not including Brian. Judging by the look in his face, he hadn't even thought about Brian feeling left out because of his decision not to include the guitarist.
"I don't even know what to say," Joh whispered as he leaned forward to press their foreheads together, "I feel like an idiot now. I should have seen it coming, but I was so excited about making your song that I—"
There is a long silence in the room as Brian takes in what John had just revealed, "My song?"
Something warm flickers across John's face at Brian's tone of surprise, "Well, yeah. I wanted to give you a little present. I came up with the song a few months ago, and I've only just perfected it. It was supposed to be a surprise, but never did I stop to think that being excluded from making a song would make you this sad."
Brian blinked at him as if he had not been able to understand what he was saying. He had, he just hadn't been able to really process what John had said. He shook his head, almost as if trying to make his thoughts rearrange simply by shaking them around and trying to make them fall in place, "You wrote me a song? Me?"
John seemed bewildered as to why Brian was asking him that. Almost as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to have done, "You deserve all the songs in the world, Brian. Every single one of them."
Now he felt silly for acting as he had, not only that but he had also ruined his boyfriend's surprise for him. It made him feel embarrassed enough to have his face turn the colour of beetroot. He tried to cover his face, trying not to pass even more embarrassment than already had, and then let his emotions run wild. Second later he was crying fat tears of what could only be described as love.
"I might be, irrevocably, in love with you."
John stared at him for a few seconds before he burst out into loud cackles, then brought Brian to him as close as he could, making the older man burry his head on John's chest.
This stupid, stupid , nerd.
"I love you too, baby."
Troubles wouldn't end there yet. John still had to deal with the fact that Brian had confessed to him that he felt like he was the least valuable member of the band. Also, with the fact that Brian thought he didn't deserve every single love song ever written. But for now, he was content with holding his boyfriend in his arms—the same boyfriend who had started to sob because he loved John so much.
Something told the bassist everything was going to be alright.