Body Language. Queen

Mr Emotional.

Freddie's P.O.V.

I knew that soft voice. But it was the last one I wanted to hear right now given my current state...I was still horny, still hard, still pissed and still confident enough to say anything...but it was also the voice I wanted to hear the most.

I span slowly, any faster and I would have thrown up, guaranteed.

I fell back landing on one of the stairs, sitting on it.

"Brian...?" I groaned, clinging onto the handrail to try and stop the room moving.

"Are...are you alright?" There was a slight hint of panic in his voice.

My, I must have looked ghastly.

I put my head in my hands trying to swallow down the bile that was rising in my throat, I felt awful. I groaned in response, "No..." I could be a real baby. I felt so sorry for myself.

No. I wasn't alright. I felt like I could throw up my own body weight. I had a headache. I was hungry. The room was spinning. I just denied a shag. I still wanted one. I was still drunk. My arm hurts like fuck. I couldn't see. I wasn't happy anymore. I was distressed. No. I'm not alright.

I felt gentle hands on my knees and heavily looked up to see Bri crouched in front of me, worry in his eyes.

"Freddie?"

Swallowing thickly I gazed into those eyes before flinging my arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. I felt vulnerable...I needed some comfort.

The alcohol was threatening to make me emotional and I had to fight the tears that had begun to sting my eyes.

I rested my head on his shoulder, "Hey...what's wrong?" He rubbed my back and held my limp body.

His smelled divine and his hold was making me sleepy.

"I'm sorry..." I choked.

"For what?" He kept holding me, practically taking my body weight, just to be held by him was what I'd been yearning for.

"Everything."

"Don't be silly, Fred. You've nothing to be sorry for." He pulled back to look at me.

"Not even for leaving you on your own tonight?" I whispered.

There was a small pause before a little smile evolved on his lips
"Not even for leaving me on my own tonight."

I wanted to smile, but I couldn't.

"Come on, Mr Emotional, lets get you some water." He smiled trying to help me to my feet, he grabbed ahold of my wrist to pull me up.

"Ahh!" I yelped loudly, immediately clamping my hand over my mouth.

He looked at me in shock.

I cowered from him, hiding my still bleeding wrist behind me.

"What have you done?" He asked seriously, reading the agony on my face and knowing I was hiding something from him.

"Nothing..." I said, dully.

"It doesn't sound like nothing." He said sternly as he supported me on our way into the kitchen.

He sat me down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, filling up a glass with water and sliding it in front of me.

I moaned in repulse, putting my head on the table, one sip of that and it would come straight back up.

"Come on. Drink some." He had sat opposite me on the other stool and pushed the glass into one of my hands, taking my fingers and wrapping them around it. "For me?" He pushed.