Jimercury oneshots! ❤️

Paul - fluff

Jim wasn't known to be overly protective. Sure, he would kiss and cuddle Freddie in public, and would nearly always have a hand snaked around his husband's waist as a sign of affection, but he wouldn't punch someone for looking at Freddie. 

Well, he normally wouldn't.

This whole fiasco started on a sunny June day, when Freddie had begged Jim to come to this restaurant with him and the rest of Queen. Jim just couldn't say no to that pretty face. It was quite a nice place, actually. There was excellent service, and they had the most amazing red wine. Or so Freddie said. Jim just had a beer.

They were there for about an hour, and Jim kept noticing that Freddie didn't seem himself. He had barely touched his dessert, and his eyes were sweeping the room in a scared or nervous manner. Needless to say, Jim didn't like it. He gently took Freddie's hand in his own, to gain his husband's attention. When the rest of Queen weren't listening in, he whispered to his partner,

"are you alright, love? you look scared. tell me what's wrong."

Freddie's face held an unreadable expression, and he held Jim's gaze for a moment before looking at the ground and shaking his head. Jim's small frown deepened and he squeezed his lover's hand a bit and whispered again.

"you can tell me anything, sweetheart, you know that. come on, talk to me."

Freddie looked up. His eyes were shining with tears. Jim's heart just broke at the sight. He hated it every time he saw Freddie cry. He signalled towards the bathroom. Freddie got the jest, and stood up, walking to the bathroom to wait for Jim. 

After a moment or two, Jim stood up and entered the bathroom to hear quiet sniffles. He saw Freddie leaning against the wall, face buried in his hands. Jim hurried over to his husband, and scooped the smaller man into his loving arms. Freddie let out broken sobs into his lover's chest as Jim softly swayed their bodies, whispering sweet nothing's and stroking Freddie's raven-coloured hair.

They stayed like this for a moment, until Freddie's crying had ceased. Jim spoke in a baby voice when he addressed the sniffling man in his arms,

"whatever's the matter, my poor baby?"

Freddie spoke in no more than a whisper when he said,

"he's here."

Jim's face etched with confusion.

"who's here, sweetheart?"

"paul..."

Jim remembered Freddie telling him about a man named Paul who had abused Freddie for a very long time. He had whipped him, slapped him with the buckle of a belt, used him for sexual pleasure, stolen his money, forced Freddie to take drugs, the list goes on. Eventually, Freddie had confessed what Paul had been doing to him to Roger, and the blonde male had instantly reported Paul to the police. Unfortunately, the court case blew over, and Paul went free. Jim's blood boiled. Absolutely nobody treats his baby like that. Jim's thoughts were interrupted when he heard his husband's desperate pleas.

"don't let him hurt me Jimmy, please. Don't let him touch me again. Please."

Jim took a shaky, pale Freddie back to the table, where Brian, John and Roger were glancing at the frontman with concern. Jim met their gaze and shook his head, as if to tell them not to ask anything. He turned to Freddie and said,

"where did you see him, baby bear?"

Freddie lifted his head and nodded in the direction of a table at the back. There, hunched over the table, chewing open-mouthed, was a man with cold grey eyes and scruffy clothes. He had a very untidy moustache of a chestnut colour, and his hair was in all directions. He gave off an air of a homeless man, and Jim's stomach churned at the sight of him.

Jim spoke to Roger, Brian and John,

"Roger, come with me. You two, keep Freddie safe."

The three males were confused, but none questioned it. Roger stood and walked next to Jim. Jim's eyes were focused on the weasel-faced man at the table. Roger followed Jim's gaze, and he too narrowed his eyes and stood taller. The two males strode over to the table; they saw red.

Paul looked up. He barely had time to say hello when his nose made contact with Jim's knuckles. There was a deafening crack, and Paul stumbled off his chair. Gasps and shouts were heard from the adjacent tables, but Jim could care less. He aimed a kick to the latter's crotch, and got him square in the balls.

Paul doubled over with pain, and Jim felt a sudden urge to laugh. So he did. He sounded absolutely insane as he stood over Paul's frame, finding absolute joy in the other man's pain. He just laughed, then hit some more, then laughed again. He didn't stop until Roger was dragging him off Paul before he died. 

Jim composed himself, cleared his throat and walked away. He held onto Freddie's waist tighter then usual as he led the shorter man outside, and into the car that was waiting for them. Jim knew that he hadn't heard the last of this, but at least he had gotten his point across. 

Nobody was going to hurt his baby, unless they had a death wish.