MAYLOR || Call me when it's over

Part 7

Brian's POV
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Even after his mother's insistence, they ended up taking Brian from the hospital directly to the flat he shared with the rest of Queen. He was tired, to be honest, and just wanted to lay in his semi-uncomfortable mattress while listening to Roger's nonsense, Freddie's laughter, and John's scoldings. He wanted to be back home, even if it was for only a few days, before going out of the house again.

He bid his parent farewell and climbed the stairs into his building. There was no one around the place as he hiked up the stairs lugging his bag and grunting when the exercise became too much for his exhausted limbs. His hands were shaking terribly as he unlocked the door and toed his shoes off. A part of him expected a warm reception, but the other half of his brain, the one used solely to think about his bandmates, reminded him that they were all bound to be either working or studying at the moment.

He wandered into the kitchen, marvelling at the state of near perfection in which everything was placed. Just like Brian liked everything to be. The house smelled clean, almost like someone had taken the time to scrub every surface clean. Which is surprising given that Brian is the one to do that for them, always. For one second Brian wonders if they hired someone to do that for them with the extra money coming from both the record and having one less mouth to feed and one set less of guitar strings to buy.

He padded over to his room, turning the knob of his door and letting it swing open.

The room is covered in flowers. Literally. Every available surface has at least one vase filled with the most beautiful arrange of flowers Brian has ever seen, and seated in the room between his and Roger's bed, holding a bouquet of flowers each, are his boys. They are dressed in plain, comfortable, clothes, looking like they have barely slept a wink in at least a week, but smiling so brightly that Brian swears he has never seen anything so beautiful.

Freddie is the first one up. He throws himself into Brian's arms and nearly makes him topple over. Brian buries his face into Freddie's neck, taking in the sweet smell of Freddie's jasmine perfume. Someone pries one of Brian's hand away from Freddie's waist and tucks themselves into the embrace. John smells of cinnamon, as he always does, and his soft hair tickles Brian's nose as he hugs them both to their chest. Promising himself never to let go.

Roger is the last one to join the hug, he makes Brian look up and wipes the tears of joy streaming down his face with his thumb. Then stands on his tiptoes to give Brian one kiss on his forehead, followed by two more kisses on his cheeks, one on the tip of his nose, and finally brushing his lips against Brian's chapped ones.

The guitarist's heart nearly beats out of his chest then, and Roger just smiles, "We've missed you, you know? Could barely sleep without you here."

It takes all of Brian's strength not to crumble to the floor, dragging his boys down with him. There are butterflies in his stomach, and the strange urge to have them all lay on top of his, crushing him under their weight and reassuring him that they are here. That this is not a dream like one of the thousands he had during his stay at the hospital, where they would all come talk to him, or kiss him senseless, or cuddle with him, and he would wake up alone in the uncomfortable bed.

He is sure he can ask for that later on, for now, he is just content to tighten his grip around John and Freddie's bodies, and lean down to kiss Roger, "Not half as much as I missed you, that's for sure."

He isn't sure who whispers, 'we are so proud of you, Brian' and who whispers, 'welcome home, baby.'

He only knows that, yeah, Brian is proud of himself too.