'39 - A John Deacon FanFiction

Chapter 11 - The Party

Warning: talk of sex

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That night, after dancing and singing along to songs with him all day and relaxing on the couch while the dulcet tones of the music played throughout my apartment, I left to get some alcohol. As I wandered aimlessly through the aisles of the store, I tried to remember which drinks John liked the most. I know he had turned into an alcoholic in his later years due to Freddie's sickness and ultimate death, but I didn't know what he liked when he was younger.

When he said he wanted to drink, it sort of surprised me. I don't know why since he would party along with the rest of them all the time, but it did. I guess if you were friends with Freddie Mercury, you had to be able to party with the best of them.

So, I settled on a bottle of whiskey, a case of beer, a bottle of vodka, and a bottle of wine. I figured I covered every base and we could switch the drinks around as much as we liked. Plus, I still had a little bit of tequila left at home from nights when I felt like getting a little drunk and didn't have to get up for anything in the morning.

As I drove home, my stomach was tossing and turning with excitement. I was so giddy to get drunk with him. Mainly because I was excited to see how he was when he let loose a little bit. I figured he would want to dance and be a little more hectic than normal. His shyness would melt away and he might be even more fun than the guy I was spending my days with.

As I opened the door, I heard John run up to me and he helped with the bags. He took them into the kitchen and quickly took each bottle out. Placing them down on the table.

"Someone's eager," I laughed as I threw my purse down on the kitchen table. I watched him place the bottles down carefully and throwing the plastic bags to the side. His hands were fidgeting with excitement as well.

"Haven't partied in a while. I'm excited." He explained. I laughed at his remark as he moved over to a drawer, opened it, and grabbed a bottle opener and a wine uncorker. I gave him a shocked look.

"How did you know those were there?" I asked, pointing to the drawer.

"Amy," he said flatly. "I have a lot of time here on my own. I've explored pretty much every drawer in this kitchen. Probably every nook and cranny of this place, honestly." My eyes widened and I could feel my face redden as he wrestled with the wine bottle first.

"Every place?" I asked in a soft voice. John stopped what he was doing.

"Well, I haven't gone in your room since I took that record out. Don't worry," he said with a reassuring smile. I took in a deep breath to calm myself. There were some things in there I didn't want him to see.

He managed to get the wine bottle open as well as the vodka. I sat at the table and watched him as he reached up for some shot glasses in my cabinet and brought them over. He was wearing his red flannel, button-up shirt again. It looked wonderful on him.

And he was wearing the gray sweatpants we bought. I tried my hardest not to focus on them. They were pretty loose on him compared to the jeans he would wear in all those pictures from the mid-seventies. Those pants barely left anything to the imagination, but to be fair, neither did these pants. Even when they were loose. I tried to hold myself back from looking down at them. It was dumb of me to even suggest those pants to him. It was just another layer of temptation that I needed to fight off.

He poured us two shots and pushed my glass over to me. I picked it up and held it in my hand, outstretched slightly toward John.

"To a good time," he said.