Body Language. Queen

A Very Vulnerable Position.

Brian's P.O.V.

I swallowed hard, "S-Something that you've probably already done..."

He rolled his eyes, "No. Come on. There has to be something that you've fantasised about doing!" He begged, his fingertips had gripped the material of my shirt near my shoulder.

Yes, Freddie. You.

I couldn't tell him that. Not yet. Not in his sex deprived state. I wasn't a mind reader and I couldn't predict the future, but I just knew what would happen if I told him. All plans of doing things properly would go hurtling out of the window, the atmosphere would turn unbearable, not in a bad way...in a way where we wouldn't be able to just sit there knowing full well we want to fuck each other. I couldn't tell him that he was what I fantasised about, I'd tried so hard to stop thinking about it, to chill me out, Freddie is supposed to be the horny one, not me! There were just moments lately where I couldn't stop staring at him, imagining falling into bed with him...most of the time I had to walk out of the room to cool myself down, maybe it was because I hadn't had a sexual experience for a while either...god knows how he's feeling.

I knew if I told him, it would happen. Right here. On the settee, probably. And then Freddie's wishes of a steady paced relationship would be gone.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." He taunted, his fingertips now impatiently drumming on my shoulder, his voice excited, most likely an influence from the alcohol mixed with the giddiness of this conversation.

"Haven't you already done yours several times already?" I teased.

He pulled a face as if I'd offended him, "You think I'm worse than I really am."

"No I don't..." I giggled.

"Okay...no you're right, I am pretty bad. Well, I was. But come on! Tell me!" He bounced on the sofa.

I had to make something up in my head, I shrugged, "Sh-shower...?"

His face fell and he stared at me emotionless, "Really. Is that it?" He sounded unimpressed. "I'm not settling for that! Use your imagination!"

"Tell me yours first." I needed inspiration.

His cheeks suddenly flushed very red and he hid his face on my arm, "No..." he giggled bashfully, his voice muffled.

I moved my body so that he was exposed again and leaned forward so that I was staring at him with my face quite close to his.

"You said." I grinned.

"I said I'd tell you after you told me yours." He sounded childish.

"I don't really have one, maybe to just be fucked would be nice..." I chuckled, earning a giggle from him.

"I suppose that counts..." He sighed.

"Now you..." I peeled his hand away from his eyes, his head still leaning on the back of the sofa, mine was too now as I waited for his answer, he looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

"You're going to think I'm a soppy shit..."

I shrugged, "So?"

"Ugh okay...umm...t-to make love...rather than just, y'know...have sex." He groaned in embarrassment and curled into a ball on the settee.

I chuckled at him and put a hand on his back, "Well I think that's rather cute." I admitted.

Eventually he uncurled, reaching for his bottle of beer, "I just have this vivid scenario in my head of how I want it to happen..."