Show me the stars that live in your eyes (A Maycury Story)

Chapter 6: Ink Stained Palm

It's so easy to get lost in the comforting warmth of Brian's lips. Especially when it's late and all Freddie wants is a bit of affection, a bit of love. He's been nervous all day, avoiding Brian's eyes because he couldn't help but believe that it was the last time Brian would ever look at him. He's been dreaming of something like this—acceptance and simple perfection—for too long for it to stop so quickly.

Brian tries to pull away, maybe to breathe—most certainly to breathe—but Freddie doesn't let him. Because even though Brian kissed him just after he asked if Brian meant to kiss him, maybe he doesn't actually want him, maybe he's just realised how stupid he's being; kissing Freddie, of all people, kissing Freddie when he could kiss some pretty girl instead, someone much more attractive, someone that wouldn't ruin his life with having to hide, with having to give up on the idea of a family. Freddie can't help thinking about it, even though he knows that if Brian chose to be with him, he'd never love him enough to want him for years. Even less for the rest of his life.

"Freddie," Brian mumbles, lips still attached to Freddie's.

Freddie lets him go, he has to face reality at some point, it's better to do it now, get it over with, deal with the heartbreak afterwards.

It's easier to handle the truth with eyes cl:ed: he's still able to hear all that hurts, but doesn't have to deal with tears as much, doesn't have to look up at the person he loves with the knowledge he can't have him, that he's made up all these scenarios of a perfect life in his head, even though he knows he can't have that.

Brian's making it hard, acting incredibly sweet, brushing a strand of hair behind Freddie's ear. He pulls him closer, putting his hand on Freddie's cheek, resting it there. Freddie's skin tingles under it. Freddie finds he's unable to breathe.

"I like you, a lot, Freddie," Brian whispers, his voice so gentle that Freddie gathers enough courage to open his eyes. He ignores their dampness and just looks at Brian in disbelief.

"But I don't want to rush this. I want to do this right," Brian explains, he looks at Freddie like he's precious, and it makes Freddie melt under his gaze. "I want us to take time, to have a proper date, just the two of us."

Freddie smiles, not wide enough to show off his teeth—not yet—but it's still genuine. He strokes a finger against Brian's chest lightly, biting his lip, trying so hard not to smile too much, but just the thought that Brian wants to take him on a date is so lovely that he can't help it, revealing shyly his biggest insecurity.

"Is this," he says, referring to the fact they're cuddling, trying to get his mind off how sweet Brian is with him, "too quick?"

Brian shakes his head, grinning, curly locks of hair flying everywhere. "Do you think it is?" He asks Freddie carefully, just like a gentleman. Freddie can't believe he's falling even further for him, he never thought it could be possible.

"Not at all," he answers, not giving Brian time to react before burying his head in Brian's neck once again. Just like the night before, Brian wraps his arms around him, but this time it seems there's even less hesitation. He rubs his fingers against Freddie's back delicately and doesn't stop until Freddie's breath evens out and he's asleep.

Freddie realises, disappointed, that his bruise has faded significantly—it means one thing, that he can go to his parents', that he can go get his keys and then go home, away from Brian. The bruise wasn't that bad at the beginning, but now it's barely even present, a slightly yellow mark on his cheekbone—at least under a few coats of Roger's concealer he's found on the bathroom's counter. It's small enough to be hidden by his hair. Brian likes him, but he still shouldn't overstay his welcome. It's not like Brian lives on his own, he lives with Roger and Tim; who Freddie is still convinced hates him.