Time Passages (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

49. The 4 A.M. Blues

This chapter contains mature content. Viewer discretion advised.

Julia

I woke early the next morning, earlier even than I usually set the Modo to rouse me. Well, I suppose "wake" isn't the right word to use, as I had yet to become fully aware. Perhaps I was only moseying about in that gray area between the conscious and the subconscious.

The room was dark and chilly; just as the weatherman had predicted, we had had a hard freeze the night before. There would be a lot of ice on the road as a result, so it was a good thing Danny and I had already fitted chains on the tires a couple of days before. I smiled, remembering we wouldn't have to worry about slipping around on the road half as much once we reached the Mississippi coast in a few days.

Not that I was cold by consequence- or uncomfortable. On the contrary, I felt marvelous. In my little corner of the darkness I was snug, warm, and safe. More than that; I felt absolutely rejuvenated, in a way that I hadn't been in what seemed like ages.

My eyes still closed, I tried to move my arms to stretch them up over my head, but I couldn't. For whatever reason the covers bound them too tightly for me to-

No, wait. Not covers. Arms.

Strong, muscular arms, cradling me like a child would a teddy bear.

My head clearing a little more, I realized Freddie was spooning me, his nose nestled against my shoulder while he held me close to his chest. Slowly I reached my hand down under the blankets and touched the bare thigh resting on top of my own. Freddie stirred a little, moving his arms to draw me even tighter against him. He let out a soft moan in his sleep, then was still.

My eyes popped open, and my insides flipped. Not that I could really see anything yet, since it was still too early in the morning and none of the lights were on. But I knew exactly what we looked like. I could feel it.

We weren't simply spooning. We were naked and spooning.

And suddenly all I could think about was last night.

I swallowed hard. Last night's impetuous interlude. It was real. Everything about it- the darkness, the heat, the thrusts, the moans, right down to the beads of sweat along his forehead reflecting the light from outside the bedroom- had really happened.

At least he had remembered to pull out just before his climax. He almost didn't make it. His thrusts all of a sudden sped up, became less gentle, more insistent. Though he couldn't stop what was inevitable, he did manage to pull himself out of me two seconds before it hit.

As hazy as my vision was at that moment, coming down from such a mind-blowing high, I remembered taking my finger, sliding it through one of the drops on my chest, and slowly raising it to my lips for a taste while Freddie clambered out of bed and limped into the bathroom for a moist hand towel to clean me up a bit. Once finished, he tossed the towel away and lowered himself down over me again. His eyes burned so intensely into my own, almost as if he was waiting for some kind of sign from me. A word, a look, a gesture, something- and I didn't know what to do.

So I simply smiled up at him, touching his cheek, and whispered the one thing I had brain enough to say at the moment: "Hi."

Freddie didn't reply right away. He held my hand there against his cheek for a few moments, eyes squeezing shut as he kissed its palm, then leaned closer and pressed his lips tenderly to mine.

"Hi," was all he said back.

I don't know if we made any further conversation; if we did, it's very unlikely it made any sense anyway. All I know is, shortly afterward, he rolled onto his side and gathered me to him, and in each other's arms we drifted to sleep.