dearest - a deacury fanfiction

part vi

Yep, I definitely suck at schedules- I have an excuse tho :0!!! Me, being an idiot, tried to save a huge change I made to this chapter offline, and I lost like half of the chapter :')) so I kinda rushed to finish it once again. It's not as good as the original for sure, but I hope you enjoy?

"Freddie, can I at least change into something... nicer?"

"Who says what you have on right now isn't nice?" Freddie complained.

"I say it isn't nice! now leave my bedroom, you big goof, and at least let me change!" John said while shoving Freddie out of 'his' bedroom. John shut the door on Freddie.

"It's actually my room!" John heard Freddie from the other side of the door. He rolled his eyes and dressed into a decent outfit. It consisted of jeans and a button up T-shirt.
He opened the door and left the room. He then proceeded to shove Freddie back into his bedroom.

"If you're forcing me to go out with you, I expect you to look half decent! Now spray on some shitty cologne and I want at least some effort out of you." Deacy shut the door while lecturing Freddie.

Though John appeared to be completely stubborn and annoyed, it was all an act. He'd rather sound like a bitch than a nervous wreck, so bitch it was. Of course, Freddie did not mind. Freddie found it slightly amusing when John was bossy. John, to Freddie at least, was always bossy and sassy- and not to mention shy! That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it was an interesting personality to be around. Also, I think we can all understand that Freddie's taste in human beings is NOT to be questioned. (n o not taste as in s m u t so don't even-)

"I'm finished!" Freddie sang whilst opening the door. To say that John was, well, stunned is an absolute understatement! When John asked for half decent, he certainly did not expect that. Freddie was dressed in a white button up shirt and black trousers. His hair was combed elegantly, and to top it off an addictive cologne scent was sprayed onto him.

"Wow, talk about shit cologne." John mumbled, inhaling secretive whiffs of the luscious scent.

"Only the best brand of shit cologne! Just for you, my dearest." Freddie purred, he took John's hand and led him out of the flat.

"Freddie, where the fuck are we going?"

"I'm not telling you!"

"How cliche."

They were finally out of the building. Freddie led him around for a few minutes, and John remained behind Freddie. He felt like an idiot, but hey, free food! Unless he was paying, then that's a different story. Freddie halted in front of a small Italian restaurant,

"Oh, cool, Italian." John said.

"It's not just Italian food! My mom took me here when I was younger."

"So you're like my mom now?"

"What?! No! That's not what I meant, the food was just really good and I think you would like it." Freddie smiled and they both walked into the restaurant. They stopped in front of a waitress.

"Reservation for two under the name Bulsara." Freddie said to the waitress.

"Ah, Bulsara, I see you," the waitress examined while looking at a list of reservations, "right this way, sirs." The waitress lead them to a booth in front of a window. John sat down in front of Freddie.

"Thank you, ma'am." John mumbled, his shyness apparent.

"Yep! Would you two like to start off with a drink?"

"Uh.... I'll have red wine." Freddie decided.

"And I'll just have water." John's voice was near a whisper.

"Sir, what was that?"

John started panicking, dark thoughts clouding his mind in an instant. I'm such a bother to the waitress. Freddie is probably judging me! I wish I didn't go to this stupid date, or even talk to Freddie-

"He just wants water." Freddie explained for John. The waitress took a few notes, smiled, and then walked away from their booth. Freddie gently placed his hand over John's.

"John, dearest, what's wrong?"

"I- uh..." Words stuttered out of his mouth. John's social anxiety was near inexplainable, one moment he thinks he doesn't care about what others think- then he's persistently wiping his face thinking something is on it, and that's why people are looking at him. 

"Thanks, Fred." Was all John managed to whisper. His eyes were watery, and Freddie held an even deeper concern for the younger boy.

"No, don't cry..." Freddie soothed, wiping a small tear off of John's face with his thumb. John looked back up at Freddie, giving him a faint smile.

"Sorry about that, I'm not the best at talking to strangers." Deacy sighed.

"You and me both. Though I can talk to people with no problem, I can't help trying to avoid it." Freddie reassured.

"Good to know I'm not the only one," John agreed awkwardly, "let's just pretend that didn't happen... okay?"

"Sure." Freddie laughed.

xxx

A few minutes later, their drinks arrived. The two found themselves muttering small talk, or giggling about whatever currently amused them. Freddie thanked the waitress, and she walked away to help out the other workers. Freddie sniffed his wine and winced.

"This smells!"

"Fred, it's wine, of course it smells." John replied sarcastically.

"Well it smells like shit."

"Then don't drink it."

"Do you always have to sass me like that?" Freddie complained.

"..." was John's response.

"You love me." Muttered Freddie.

A piercing silence slowly crept into their conversation. John looked away for a moment, before returning his eye contact again.

"Perhaps I do."

Silence,

more piercing silence.

"Shit! You heard nothing." Deacy recovered, he averted his eye contact, this time not returning a glance. He didn't even consider looking back at Freddie.

"Perhaps I did." Freddie mocked, which sent the warmest of colours to John's face. John didn't respond, his stomach ached from anticipation and a rock was held right in his throat, leaving him uncomfortable and nervous. What was I thinking!!!

"I.. I have actually liked you, if we're being serious," Freddie continued. John nearly spat non-existent water into his cup, and his heartbeat multiplied by one million, "I technically still do."

"I could tell you were gay from the start, but-"

"No, I'm sorry, you probably don't like me back." Freddie apologized awkwardly.

"Is that why you slept with me?" Whispered John, eagerly.

"Yeah. And because I missed my bed."

"Or why you call me dearest?"

"I suppose."

"Well... maybe,  just maybe... I like you back..."