𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙚 ; bohemian rhapsody

chapter 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

ᵍʳᵒᵘᵖⁱᵉ

˚₊‧꒰ა 🎤 ‧₊˚

[ the party ]

📍𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙳𝙾𝙽, 𝟷𝟿𝟾𝟶

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞-𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐟𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬. You stood beside Roger, glancing around the expanse of Freddie's brand new apartment. 

Rufus was a sweet boy and had gained fifty-fifty of you and Roger's traits and physical features. He had the drummer's unruly blonde hair, and devilish attitude already, whilst he was blessed with your E/C eyes and, as Roger liked to describe it, the most beautiful smile in the world. 

You greeted Rufus into the world, and not two months later, Roger had popped the question. You said yes, of course. Who could say no to that handsome face? 

Freddie, with his new mustache and haircut, turned around with a smile. "What do you think?" he asked excitedly. 

Roger thought for a moment as he stared at his friend's new appearance, before supplying with a slight grimace, "Gay-er."

You hit his shoulder hard, and he hissed out a delightful little curse word as he rubbed his arm. But Freddie took no offence, just correcting, "Not this, darling, the house. Isn't it amazing?" He walked though one of the large doorways, and you and Roger ventured into the one next to it. "Mary's already moved in next door, so she can visit the cats and me."

"Uh-huh," Roger nodded absentmindedly.

"Each cat will have his own room. Delilah's by the kitchen, Miko's next door. Tiffany, Oscar, Romeo, all upstairs!" You peaked through the joint doorway at Freddie as he continued, "Lilly's room is even large than this one! Spoilt thing."

"Well, I'm not sure the echo is quite pronounced enough," Roger quipped. 

Freddie laughed, before belting loud, "Eh-oh!"

"Again! Again!" Rufus clapped, and Freddie grinned, taking hold of the boy's hand as you and Roger chuckled.

"Oh, I knew you'd love it," the singer cooed to his nephew, before turning to you and your husband. "And I knew you two would appreciate it."

"Rufus wants to see Romeo, would you mind, bubs?" you asked, and Freddie nodded with a gleeful grin, the boys watching as you left the room to coddle one of his cats.

"Stay for dinner. Anything you fancy," Freddie prompted.

"I can't. Wife, kids, you know," Roger joked softly.

"Of course... Well, come on. We'll eat off the floor. It's clean enough."

"Another time, Fred. Besides, Y/N needs her rest. Rufus is a little bugger," he explained. Freddie nodded, and Roger moved in to hug him, wrapping his arms around the singer. Freddie tightened his grip, closing his eyes as he took a breath. 

"What's got you two so emotional?" you questioned, and the pair let go of each other, smiling at you.

"Nothing, dear," Freddie smiled.