Too Much Love Will Kill You

CHAPTER NINE

*So this is a little sloppily thrown together at the end bc I'm struggling to keep my eyes open but wanted to post for you guys!
This is a little bit of drama for you all, I've gotta keep up the drama after how drama filled the last two stories were 😂
This one will be having a few time jumps too, just so I can fit in as much of them touring and stuff as possible!
Thank you for reading! 💕*

*3RD PERSON POV*
*One Month Later*
"Well? What do you think?" Freddie asked, striking a dramatic pose as he appeared in the lounge, dressed in yet another one of his potential tour outfits. "Do I look dashing?" He smirked, showing it off to Joe, Jim, and Delilah (his very favourite cat). The singer had tried on various outfits for his friends (and his baby), needing to pick one or two to rotate through throughout the tour.

"That looks..." Joe started, stopping his stroking of Delilah's fur as he eyed off the rather ridiculous looking outfit. Freddie had worn something things in his time, but he'd not seen him in something so...revealing in person before.

"Uncomfortable." Jim finished the sentence, also being rather taken aback at the outfit the frontman had come out in. It consisted of some very tight (ass hugging, the gardener happened to notice) white pants, and a red singlet number that had managed to be cut to expose majority of Freddie's chest, nipples included. Both men didn't exactly know how to take in the outfit, usually only seeing them in videos or pictures.

"But does it look good lovey?" Freddie quizzed, striking yet another pose for his audience.

"I wouldn't say "good"." Joe shrugged, earning a slight glare from the older man.

"Different maybe." Jim added, trying to save his friend from being roasted by their boss. Freddie frowned, moving to steal his beloved cat from the chef's lap.

"Do you think I look dashing Delilah?" He asked in a voice that one would usually speak to a child in, as he held her up in front of his face. That cat meowed, stretching her little paws out at him, making his heart melt. Freddie's cats were his babies, and he didn't like saying he had a favorite (in case the rest heard and got upset), but Delilah was definitely his girl. She was spoilt constantly, always got to sleep in the bed with him and John if she wanted to, and was the one he held the most. He loved them all, but Delilah stole majority of his heart.

"Was that a yes?" Joe snickered, earning himself yet another glare as Freddie cradled the cat in his arms.

"Maybe she likes the nipples?" Jim snorted a laugh, causing Joe to cackle in the seat beside him.

"Can you two fuck off." Freddie grumbled, feeling exposed now that a comment was made about his half naked chest. He quickly discovered that he should've waited until his husband and Phoebe were home for this, knowing that they'd give a serious review of the outfits rather than just having a laugh at his expense. "Don't you have a dinner to start making Joseph?" He sassed, sitting Delilah back on the sofa to cross his arms.

"Not tonight dear Fredrick!" The chef smirked, standing up from his spot to face off against his boss. "John gave me tonight off. I have a date!" He smiled, excited to hopefully find the right guy this time.

"A date?" Freddie quizzed, raising his eyebrows. The bassist never mentioned that they'd be cooking for themselves tonight, which worried him a little. Neither of them there the best cooks (Freddie himself not knowing how to boil a bloody egg!), and a night alone usually ended with them ordering a takeaway, which they didn't need right before going on tour. Freddie had already been ridiculed in the press for his weight once before, and it made him a little insecure, especially when choosing new tour outfits. He'd been working out leading up to them announcing the shows, but he was still worried someone would say something. Freddie usually wasn't one to care about the press, or about his weight for that matter, but sometimes he had moments of insecurity like everyone did, and that's why he preferred Joe to cook their meals.