A Night At The Opera

You're My Best Friend

John's P.O.V
I woke up, hyperventilating, gasping for air, sweat was dripping down my face, I sat upright, clutching the bedsheets.

"John?" A gentle voice asked from next to me, I felt a warm hand wrap around my wrist, "John are you alright?" The voice sounded panicked and worried.

I gulped down a lump in my throat, the figure sat up, turning on the bedside lamp, Freddie's messy hair was stuck to his face, his chest rising and falling in an irregular pace.

I nodded and Freddie sighed in relief, he placed a hand on his chest "Jesus Deaky" he chuckled "Please don't do that again" he exhaled shakily.

"Do you want a hug?" He asked, I nodded quickly and Freddie wrapped his arms around me, rocking me back and forth gently.

He pulled away from me slowly and lifted a chin up so I could look at him, I stared into his gorgeous brown eyes, his jawline that would make the gods jealous.

He threw the covers off of him and went to the window, opening the curtains and leaning against the windowsill.

"Lovely day today hm?" He asked looking out at the grassy fields, I hummed in response, he opened the window and pushed it open, letting the cool breeze fill the room.

"I'm going to go get some breakfast" he opened the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a red shirt, he began getting changed, I just watched him.

"Stop it!" Freddie teased, spotting me in the mirror, he grinned at me as I covered my eyes with my hands.

He brushed out his hair, put on his silver bangle and rings, he pulled on a pair of platforms before turning to me and leaning against the banister
"See you in a minute" he winked at me and trudged up the stairs.

I pulled the covers off me and stretched, my back and arms clicking as I made a loud grunt, I pulled on a pair of pants and a floral shirt.

The front door slammed shut and a Snakey Irish voice came from upstairs "Freddie!" It was Paul, I groaned, Why the fuck was Paul here?

A few awkward minutes of the moron calling out to no one followed and then my bedroom door opened as I was brushing out my hair in the mirror.

Paul came strolling down the stairs, leaning against the banister and giving me a sickly sweet smile that made a wave of nausea roll over me.

"Morning John" Paul grinned, I nodded and mumbled a little 'morning' before turning back to the mirror.

"Do you know where Freddie is?" Paul asked, I let an awkward silence hang over us before turning to him and raising my eyebrows.

"No" I said giving him a smug smile "Maybe look in the kitchen" I made a slow clap and Paul looked at me, a mix of surprise and anger resting on his face.

"T-thank you Deaky" I almost vomited at him calling me by the nickname my friends used, Paul went back upstairs and slammed the door on his way out.

I left my bedroom and headed towards the kitchen, Freddie was making himself coffee, Brian was cooking breakfast and Roger was flicking through a magazine.

"Morning!" Brian said happily, stirring the saucepan and giving me a friendly little wave, I smiled at him before taking a seat next to Roger.

"What you reading?" I asked looking over his shoulder, it was a two page article on Roger, it had a photo of him on our American Tour along with a few columns of information.

"Of course" I groaned and Freddie giggled, "Roger Taylor has to read an article about himself" Roger grinned at me and nodded.

"Damn right I have to" He winked at me "Fuels my ego" he laughed before turning back to his magazine. Brian put two plates on the side and dished out scrambled eggs onto each of them with a bit of toast.