#their jammies are so cute i love you venture boys

[glimfag]

sleepytime for stupid boys

[hearts-hunger]

I’m Happy at Home || part four

Look on my masterlist for parts 1-3!

Part Summary: You take a trip down memory lane to spring 1971, when you first got to know your mates’ adorable new bass player.

Pairings: John Deacon x Wife!Reader; dad!deaky

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2k (short again ik sorry)

Warnings: None!

A/N: Ok loves!! Here’s the memory I promised in the last chapter, and I think it’s pretty cute. It just jumps right into the memory and ends still in it, so we’ve left Montreal Deaky for the moment, but he’ll be back in all his glory in the next part. Besides, who can resist ‘71 Deaky with that cute smile and that lovely hair? Not me, that’s who. I hope you like it, and let me know what you think!

You had been Brian’s roommate at the time, both of you attending Imperial College London at various stages of your academic career. As considerate a flatmate as the aspiring astrophysicist was, he’d forgotten to mention to you that he’d invited Queen’s new bassist over first thing in the morning. 

You’d stumbled out of bed when you heard the kettle being filled, the sound of Brian’s early morning tea-making a surer alarm than your own bedside clock since the day you’d moved in. You’d made it down the hall and to the bathroom when you realized that the shower was running already and that the soft humming coming from the kitchen wasn’t in Brian’s familiar voice. Stopped at the bathroom door and peeking around the corner into the kitchen, you bit your lip to keep an obscenity from tumbling out as you leaned back from the corner. 

Nope, that wasn’t Brian at all. You wouldn’t have minded walking out in your “Ringo for President” t-shirt and messy hair if it had just been your roommate - you’d been best friends for so long that he was practically your brother, and you’d long since stopped caring about looking presentable for him. But the new bass player - John Richard Deacon, you didn’t think you’d ever forget that introduction - was heart-stoppingly cute, and you’d wanted to make a good impression on him the next time you saw him. You were just about to make your retreat to your room to actually get dressed when the bathroom door opened; you took one step backwards and bumped into Brian, all dripping hair and lanky limbs and nothing but a towel around his waist.

“Hey,” he’d protested, pushing you forward a bit so you weren’t standing on his foot.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, unblushing at the slightly compromising situation you found yourself in, you with no bra and him with no clothes at all. There was nothing romantic or sexual between the two of you; though you’d nursed a latent crush on him in the early days of your friendship, living with him had made that a thing of the past. Not that you didn’t think Brian was good-looking or sweet or good fun to be around; you just knew that he’d make some other girl quite happy, and his friendship meant the world to you.

“Mind telling me why you’re just standing right at the doorway?” he asked, amused. Then, with a flicker of worry, “Did you need in? Sorry if I was taking too long.”

“No, you’re ok,” you said. “I just... ah, didn’t know we were having company.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said, realizing. “I meant to tell you last night. We’re going over a few things before the show. I asked him to put on some tea and I told him you had a stash of Jammie Dodgers up in the cabinet.”

You frowned. “You’re not even supposed to know about those.”

Brian smirked. “You want me to go tell John that he can’t have any?”

“No,” you said quickly. “But next time, I’m telling him about your million-year-old brandy hidden behind that vase from your mother that you never use.”

He gave a melodramatic gasp. “That’s not even on the same level as Jammie Dodgers.”

“It’s the principle of the matter, Brimi.”

“Fine, point taken.” He gave you a crooked smile. “You could go say hi, you know, instead of hiding out and arguing with me. He doesn’t bite. Unless you wanted him to, maybe.”

“Brian,” you scolded, feeling your cheeks flush. He only laughed. 

“Besides, I can’t go out there looking like this,” you insisted, your voice a little quieter for fear of John overhearing.

“No?” Brian teased, matching your tone. “Maybe he’s into the all-natural kind of thing.”

“Brian Harold May,” you said, smacking his arm and earning another laugh from him. “You’re horrible, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he said with a grin. “But you should still go say hi.”

He crossed to his bedroom and shut the door behind him; you followed suit, putting a bra on and checking that your hair wasn’t a complete mess. You didn’t want this John Richard Deacon fellow to think that you were avoiding him, but you also didn’t want to be an absolute mess the first time you really talked to him. Satisfied, marginally, with your appearance, you went back out to the hallway and rounded the corner, making your way into the kitchen.

“Hi,” you ventured, giving a shy little wave even though he had his back to you. He turned to face you with the expression of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, his smile endearingly nervous. 

“Hi,” he said. “Sorry about - I mean - I couldn’t help but overhear, I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I - ”

“Oh, that’s ok,” you assured him, feeling a little embarrassed. Which parts had he heard? “Brian and I aren’t masters of arguing quietly.”

“All the same, I’m sorry if it was a bit of a shock to see me in your kitchen so early,” he said, bashful. “I asked Brian if you were ok with it, and he said you would be. And that he’d let you know.”

“Well, no harm done,” you said, giving him a smile and hoping to ease his guilt. “If there’s one thing to know about Brian, it’s that he’s an absolute genius who would lose his head if it weren’t attached to him. He tends to be very scatterbrained.”

He smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll remember that for next time and ask you myself if it’s ok to come over.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a deep blush rose to his cheeks. “Not that I’m - I mean - sorry, that was - ” He gave a nervous laugh. “Awfully presumptuous of me.”

“No, you’re fine,” you said, endeared to him. “You don’t have to ask to come over here - Roger and Freddie are over here all hours, and now that you’re in the band, our home is your home too.”

“Oh,” he said softly, surprised. “That’s very kind. Thank you.” He looked down at his shoes, a well-loved pair of trainers. “I wouldn’t go giving me any special band privileges yet, though, I’ve only just auditioned.”

Trying to make him feel more at ease, you hopped up on the bar stool at the island, trying to give the impression that this was just a casual conversation and not the Spanish Inquisition. You leaned your elbows on the counter and propped your chin in your hand.

“Oh, I think you’re here to stay,” you said sincerely. “I’m no musical genius like you guys, but it sounded great to me at your audition. And the boys have said they think you’re really good.”

He looked up at you, his brown eyes alight and hopeful. “They have?”

You smiled. He really did have the loveliest features, all brightened and softened by this newfound excitement. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to have him look that way because of you, maybe because you decided to reach up on tiptoes and kiss him...

You blushed, shaking your head to clear it. Geez, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been absolutely doe-eyed over somebody like this, much less after only meeting him one time and then stumbling upon him in your kitchen at seven in the morning. You couldn’t help hiding behind your hands a bit, trying to conceal your deep blush.

“Yeah,” you said, remembering the question. “They really like your style. Roger was impressed that you got ‘Keep Yourself Alive’ right off the bat. That’s one of the ones he auditioned with, and it took him a few run-throughs to get it.”

John’s soft laugh was a little surprised. “Roger was impressed?”

You smiled. “Yeah, he was, and don’t let him get to you. He’s a jackass, but he’s really a sweetheart underneath all that.”

“Well... I’m looking forward to getting to know that side of him,” John said diplomatically, drawing a laugh from you. You couldn’t help but notice the way he smiled when you laughed, and you felt you’d like to make him smile like that all the time.

The kettle began its familiar whistle and John turned to take it off the stove, filling two mugs with hot water before replacing it on the eye.

“Tea’s up in the cabinet to your left,” you said. “Though Brian probably told you that. Help yourself to whatever kind you like - we have kind of an eclectic collection.”

“I’m really plain when it comes to tea,” he admitted. “I usually go for Lady Grey or something equally unexciting.”

“Lady Grey's my favorite, actually,” you said with a smile. “That should be up on top.”

He took two teabags out of the box and fixed your mugs, spooning some sugar into yours at your request and adding milk to both. He handed your mug to you and you cradled it with both hands, letting the warmth seep into your fingers. 

“Thank you for making tea,” you said. “I wouldn’t have made you make tea - I mean, you’re the guest, after all - but my skill for being a hostess has never quite rubbed off on Brian. So I apologize on his behalf.”

“Oh, you don’t need to,” John said, a little embarrassed. “I don’t mind. Did I make yours alright?”

You took a sip. “Perfect,” you told him.

You sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both of you sipping at your tea, the sunlight growing brighter as it filled your tiny flat. You had the feeling that you would be content to spend every morning like this, sharing tea with John Richard Deacon.

“So, John,” you said. “Can I ask you something?”

He looked up at you and gave you a gentle smile. “Of course.”

You bit your lip. “What do you do in real life?”

You could tell from the sound of his laugh that you’d caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You know, like, not in the band.”

“Oh,” he said, his smile still lingering. “Um, I study electrical engineering at university. Not that exciting.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “You must know lots of fun things. Do you like studying it?”

“Very much, actually,” he said. “It’s always been a hobby of mine since I was a kid, and it’ll suit me just fine for my living. Actually, I’ve been hoping to get a closer look at Brian’s guitar and ask him about how he wired it.”

“Oh, he’ll talk with you about Red Special to your heart’s content,” you said. “And probably past that. Seriously, don’t be afraid to ask him about it. He’ll talk your ear off.”

“Who’ll talk whose ear off?”

Both you and John looked over to the doorway, seeing Brian come in.

“You’re going to talk John’s ear off about the Red Special,” you clarified. “He’s interested in how it’s wired.”

“Are you really?” Brian asked excitedly.

John smiled. “Yeah, I’d love to know how you built it. It’s fantastic, and that sound is so unique.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” Brian said, his cheeks pinking a little. He busied himself making himself some tea, John politely moving out of the way of Brian’s gangly limbs. 

“Y/N’s right,” Brian said. “I’ll babble on ‘til you’re begging me to stop. But you’re more than welcome to take a look at her.”

John’s gaze flickered to you. “H-her?”

You blushed and Brian chuckled. “Oh, sorry, I meant Red Special. My one and only. I don’t have any say in who takes a look at Y/N.”

Your flush deepened. “Bri,” you warned. You looked over to John. “Sorry about him, he’s - ”

“Just teasing,” Brian supplied with a grin. “As she knows.” He tugged on a curl that had come loose from your bun. “But enough about you two, you’ve got me started on my guitar, and I’m not going to stop anytime soon. Come on, John, give me your professional electrical engineer opinion.”

John gave you a sweet smile as he made to follow Brian to the living room. “It was lovely having tea with you,” he said.

You returned his smile. “You too, John Richard Deacon.”

He chuckled at the reminder of how he’d introduced himself. “Maybe we could have tea again, before our next show.”

You grinned. “I’d like nothing better.”

Read part 5!

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