#with a hint of tim staffell x brian may x roger taylor

[izzy-b-hands]

Take A Picture

A bit of Tim/Brian during the Smile years, with just a hint of poly!Smile (Tim/Bri/Rog) as well (to the surprise of no one, I’m sure.) Inspired by this picture: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/638509013423783936  which was brought up on the DL discord server with mentions of a fic needing to be written inspired by it...so here we are lol. 

We get smutty in this, but there’s also my usual dashes of Emotions for extra flavor. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

"This isn't the weirdest place we've taken a photo at," Tim says, as he clambers past the more rusted bathtub and into the slightly bigger one beside it. "It's on the list maybe, but it isn't the weirdest."

"I'm in a bath, Tim," Brian sighs, and folds himself in after him. "At the least, this should be high up on that list."

"We could get weirder," Tim teases. "More experimental." "I'm not taking my shirt off," Brian sounds like he's joking, but that doesn't stop Tim from blushing, turning away to fake inspection of the bath before Brian can see him.

"You're so damned buttoned up, how would you get it off?" Roger calls from behind the camera. "Will you two sit down and get comfortable already?"

"Right, comfortable in the tub that might give us tetanus," Brian shouts back. "Sorry, let me just recline like a model for you!"

"I don't care how you pose, just hurry it up!" Roger sighs. "I need a break from this." "You just want pictures taken of you," Tim says. "We'll get to you as well, Rog."

Roger grins, and it's always lovely to see. The mentality isn't dissimilar to 'if mother isn't happy, then no one is happy.' So long as Roger can be kept smiling, then the day will be an easier one, with a happy Rog to keep their spirits up.

"Alright, that looks like something," Roger says. "Smile!"

"Hang on!" Brian looks utterly frustrated, trying to fumble his way into a comfortable position. "This wasn't made for someone of my height!" "I'm cozy," Tim teases. "Stretch out some, there's room by me."

As soon as he says it, he realizes he's stepping close to That Line again. The one he and Brian dance around, but have never fully stepped over.

The one that makes them both blush far too easily around each other, that makes it hard to focus when they touch even the slightest bit. And it didn't always feel that way, at least not so strongly.

The line is headed for a breaking point, he knows. Brian manages a quick, slightly silly smile as Roger takes the picture, but he sighs as soon as Roger moves back from them.

"Aw," Roger smiles. "You both look lovely! Shall I scout ahead for other spots while you extricate yourselves?"

"That'll be fine, yeah," Brian responds, his shoes slipping as he tries to climb back out of the tub, bringing to mind a wet cat hoping to escape a bath.

"Let me help," Tim offers, ignoring the way heat flushes his body as he reaches for Brian. "You'll hurt yourself." "I will not," Brian fusses, but he takes Tim's hand as support to push him back out.

The tub, however, has other plans, and before either of them can do anything else, they're back in the tub, slipped down into it, with Brian on top of Tim.

It's a cacophony of limbs, but Tim finds he can't focus much on that.

Not with Brian's thigh in between his legs, hair soft as his head rests on Tim's shoulder, and his chest heaving, probably as much from the fall as the physical contact.  "You okay?" Tim finally manages a moment later, forcing himself to say something, as he fights to remind his body that there can be no reaction to this, none.

"Um," Brian says slowly. "I...I don't think I can get up."

He's about to ask Brian what hurts, until he presses his hip up closer to Brian's, and it's apparent as to why Brian would rather not get out of the tub and go wandering the neighborhood. The Line is there in front of them, and very real, and then it's gone with Brian's lips on his.

Just for moment, before Brian lifts his head, and his eyes are wide.

"Why did you stop?" Tim asks, ignoring the wavering of his voice. "Roger won't be back for another minute at least."

It's Brian's turn to blush now, but a smile comes with it. "I don't think that's enough time."

And of all the things he expected to hear next, Brian attempting something like seduction was not it.

But he likes it. "Maybe we cut the photo session short," he swallows hard, focusing on controlling himself, even as Brian teases, tempts, hips grinding down just a touch to make them both shiver. "Tell Rog we need a lunch break. Then later today we can meet up, finish it, get some pictures of all of us?"

He expects a verbal answer from Brian, but he doesn't mind that he gets a kiss instead, longer this time, with more heat behind it.

He doesn't know where they'll go for their 'lunch break.' There isn't really a good spot that comes to mind.

But Tim knows he's willing to use the van if they must, so long as it keeps Brian close, and keeps that line permanently erased.

---

"Tell me this doesn't mean anything."

"What?" Tim can't help but sound as heartbroken as he feels, shirt off, trousers undone, Brian's hand still down the front of his pants, fingers reaching for his cock as they lay in the back of the van. 

"Just...I feel bad," Brian mutters.

Tim gently extricates Brian's hand from his pants, and motions for Brian to get off of him.

This is it then. Only a fling, like every other boy he's fumbled with in the back of a van, in the dark room of a cold flat, colder in the morning when he's gone without so much as a note. "You aren't the first, and you won't be the last," Tim sighs. "But I'm used to it. So if you're still game, I am."

Brian is adorably befuddled, wearing it like a confused puppy. "What are you talking about?"

"How this means nothing, and you never do this sort of thing, and this doesn't make you..." Tim falters in repeating everything the other guys have told him in the past. He shouldn't be hurt by it anymore. But he is.

"No, I was-" Brian stutters. "I mean...does this mean something to you? Because it means a lot to me and everyone talks about how this shouldn't mean anything, it's just fun, and-" "You are a gorgeous idiot," Tim sighs. "And I'm an okay idiot, I think."

"Don't know what you mean by all this," Brian smiles softly. "But I do know you're more than okay."

And he's not sure he's blushed so bright or so hot before, and it would be Brian to make him do that, wouldn't it?

"I mean, I was sat here, sure you were telling me this didn't mean shit to you," Tim continues. "And that you just wanted to get off and go." "We are on a time crunch," Brian admits, with a peek to his watch, set so delicately on that thin wrist. "How long do you think it'll take Rog to eat a sandwich and a biscuit?"

"Not long enough," Tim replies, his heart pounding away louder than Rog on the drums (and that is frankly fucking loud.) "Maybe...I know I already cut us short, but we could pause this, finish the photo session with Rog, and you could come back to..."

He trails off without meaning to, his voice just simply gives out on him, nerves screaming at him that this is too much, Brian won't say yes.

"Yours? Yeah," Brian smiles but he's clearly nervous, and Tim has never been so happy to see Brian nervous before. "Good," Tim smiles and peers out the window. "We should dress; he's nearly here."

"We told him to take his time!"

"Yeah, but he was hungry," Tim reminds Brian. "As it is, we'll have to eat on the run."

But he doesn't really mind that. There are worse things in the world, and he's not so worried about his stomach right now as he fumbles to redress.

---

Roger is grinning like a cat with a canary. "I knew it."

"Roger," Brian scolds, but there's no heat behind it. "Please don't tease."

"No, I think you two can do plenty of that to each other without my help," Roger giggles. "Finally. You've lost me a bet with Bulsara though. I gave you another week before you'd break and one of you would make a move; he had estimated sometime in the last week or this one." "We'll make it up to you," Tim remarks dryly. His cock is already half hard again at the thought of finally getting decent time alone with Brian, and they've been stood talking in the street outside his flat for nearly a half hour. Love Rog as he might (and he does), but good god he can't wait any fucking longer.

"I'm sure you will," Roger laughs. "Go have fun then. Be safe, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"What would you do?" Brian and Tim ask together, and there's no hiding the shock in their voice (Roger's never mentioned interest in any lads.)

But his tongue laps for a quick second at his lower lip, and he smirks prettily. "Wouldn't you two like to know?" He waves and then he's off, leaving them both in a silent consideration.

"If he means it," Brian begins slowly. "And if we both want it, there are other nights."

"Indeed there are," Tim says, though his mind is racing with ideas now. Of nights with him in Brian's lap and Roger in his and noise complaints from the neighbors that he'd be almost proud of.

"But tonight, though," Brian stammers. "I don't have keys to your flat. Of course I don't, but I mean we want to be inside it, not out here, and you haven't got out your keys, and-" Tim takes Brian's hand and pulls him to the door front door, slipping his keys out of his pocket as he moves. "Better?"

Brian just nods, quickly and happily, with a look on his face like he can't quite believe what's happening.

And truthfully, Tim can't believe it either, but it feels like the most wonderful dream. Brian's hand warm in his as they traipse up to his flat, small, but technically capable of being called 'shelter.'

That hand slips out of his and lingers at his hip as they shut and lock the door behind them, and the warmth turns to a delicious sort of burn. "I don't..." Brian giggles. "I don't do this a lot."

"Bri, I know," Tim smiles. "We drive you home after each gig, remember?"

That could have stung, but Brian seems to realize it's meant in jest as he leans down some to kiss Tim.

He might be inexperienced in the emotional side of hook ups of any kind (more serious or not), but there's no inexperience on his lips, the way they linger at the corner of Tim's mouth just long enough to make him short of breath.

"Bed's that way, but the couch doesn't squeak," Tim gasps out when Brian finally let's his mouth free for a moment. "Couch for now, bed later?" Brian's smile is still nervous, but there's a hint of lust, something hot and happy at the implication he's made.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Tim teases, but he's not really worried about that. He's got a feeling Brian will be staying plenty long enough to make use of both.

Brian smiles and the flat is still dark, but as far as Tim is concerned it's just been lit up as brightly as possible.

They do actually turn on a light as they move, clothes dropping to the floor, but there's still some shadow, and that's what captures Tim's eye as they stumble to the couch.

The shadow of Brian on the wall as he kisses his way down Tim's bare chest, lips soft on his skin, is particularly enticing. Tim might still be working to lay comfortably on the couch (not entirely possible, the couch may not squeak, but it doesn't provide much comfort either as far as sitting or laying on it goes), but there's nothing that would move him from the spot now.

"Let me know if this is all...good,” Brian says hesitantly, a finger tip resting on the waistband of Tim’s pants. That’s all that’s left to remove, and Tim’s nearly at a point to beg him to rip them off if he has to.

“I will,” Tim tries not to sound fussy or impatient, he really does. But he’s done so much bloody waiting today, that even another moment of it-

“Okay,” Brian chirps cheerfully, then leans down and sucks at Tim’s cock through his pants.

It’s not something he’s necessarily considered himself as ‘into’, messing about like this with clothes still partially on. Brian, however, might just make him a convert.

His whining stops Brian for a moment. “Alright?”

“You stopped,” Tim doesn’t even try to hide it now; he’s sick of waiting and feeling bratty about it. “Why on earth did you stop?”

“That wasn’t that good,” Brian chuckles. “Please,” Tim begs. There’s no other way about it; he’s begging now. “Just touch me; this is torture.”

Brian moves up his body, climbs onto him gently, long legs tangling with his, and frots against him slowly.

“You said you don’t do this often,” Tim gasps as he pulls Brian close by his hips.

“I don’t,” Brian giggles, hips moving still much too slowly, his cock hard against Tim’s. “I’m winging it. Going off of things I’ve thought about.”

“Thought about when?” Tim asks, though he can well guess. But he wants, needs, to hear it from Brian.

“At home, getting myself off,” Brian replies. “Thinking about you, and me. Sometimes Rog too.”

“So that’s not just me then,” Tim smiles.

“Not just you,” Brian smiles, but he’s tense, pulling his hips up and away more with each stroke. “I felt ridiculous some nights, you know?”

“Why’s that?”  “Because I couldn’t get you out of my head,” Brian says softly. “Like this, yeah, but...other ways. Stupid, little domestic ways. Sharing a flat, spending nights in together. Just...anything and everything.”

“You’re going to come, aren’t you?” Tim can’t help but tease.

Brian is flushed above him, barely able to grind his cock down against Tim’s without sighing or whining or moaning.

But he shakes his head quickly, seemingly more to convince himself than Tim.

“You can,” Tim says. “I fully intend to call Roger tomorrow morning and let him know we won’t be making it to practice. Plenty of time to recover and go again.”

Brian moans into his mouth as he kisses him, hips and cock rutting hard against him now in full contact, and within a moment he’s gone.

Tim hadn’t intended to come with him, but all it takes is the kiss and the feeling of Brian’s come warm through the material of his pants, and he’s there.

“Don’t stop,” Brian’s voice shudders and is muffled as he drops his head to Tim’s shoulder. “Keep moving. We won’t have to stop, probably.”

“Probably?” Tim asks, using his legs to hold Brian close, struggling to keep a rhythm. Even with the cloth in between them, it’s still oversensitive to keep moving as they are.

Brian’s hips stutter, but they don’t stop, and it’s wonderfully overwhelming. He resigns himself to letting Brian keep it all going, and drops his head back onto the couch, eyes closed.

For a moment, Brian stops, and Tim opens his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Brian replies as he lifts his head, voice and breath still shaky. “Just admiring the view.”

Tim can’t help but burst into giggles. It sounds ridiculous, hearing someone speak about him like that. But all the same, he’s absolutely delighted to hear it coming from Brian.

“Is it that pretty?”

“Breathtaking,” Brian sighs happily. “I really want to go again, I do-”

“We’ve got all night,” Tim says, and pulls Brian down for a kiss. “And tomorrow.”

“And tomorrow after that?” Brian asks so softly Tim can just hear him, and even then, it takes a moment for it to click, for him to realize what Brian is really asking.

He can only manage a nod at first, before the words finally flow. “Yeah. And tomorrow after that, and more, if you’ll have me.”

Brian nods quickly and grins, peppering him with kisses, before climbing off of him and pulling him off the couch.

It’s the slowest he’s ever walked to his room, but it’s worth it to take their time, interrupting it with kisses and wandering hands and stripping off their pants finally.

He knows it might not mean Brian is moving in right away, regardless of any domestic fantasies either of them have had.

But as he falls into bed with Brian, he knows it’s the start of something all the same, something wonderful and hopefully lasting (maybe even with the addition of Roger, if he’s truly wanting to join them for more than just a night or two.)

And he can’t wait for the rest of it.

[radiosteve]

Need Your Loving Tonight Ch.2

Summary: About a year after you first met your best friend Brian, he tells you that he wants to fulfill his lifelong dream and form a band. After recruiting his friend Tim to join, you help them hold auditions to find the perfect drummer. Much to Brian’s surprise, you and Tim seem to be getting along a lot better than expected. 

Note: Here is part 2!! Now that we’ve got a little introduction we can start to get into the juicy stuff. I’m trying to follow along with a semi-accurate timeline so that’s why there might be a few weird time jumps. Freddie will be in the next chapter, I’m so excited! The italicized words are the readers thoughts, just like last time. I’m going to be as consistent with updates as I can, so I’ll try to have a new chapter out every few days. Also, if you want to be added to the taglist just send me a message or an ask and I’ll add you! I found the photo on google, I do not own it.

Warnings: Some language and slight smut

Pairing: (will be) Roger Taylor x Reader x John Deacon 

Words: 2.2k+

September 29, 1968

It had been a little over a year since you packed up your life and shipped yourself overseas to attend Imperial College. Your friendship with Brian only grew as the year went on. By the end of your freshman year you felt so well adjusted and comfortable with your foreign surrounds that you dreaded going back home. But, with no place to stay in London for the summer, you filled your suitcases once more and headed back to your hometown. Your mom greeted you at the airport with the biggest smile you had ever seen. 

It was difficult to tell if she actually was happy to see you or if she was just glad to have someone to fill the space between her and your father. You spent your summer like most others, working on the boardwalk and going to the beach after your shift ended. It was a lonely summer, but you knew how to adapt. All of your high school friends seemed to move on without you and all of your college friends lived in a different country, but hey that’s life. Occasionally you would go out with your friends from work when you all had time off, but you longed for the end of the summer. 

Being at home made you realize just how different New Jersey was from London. You cursed yourself from those first couple weeks of the fall semester for wishing to escape back home. Because now that you were here, it sure as hell didn’t feel like something you would call a home.The only thing that kept you sane during the warm, sunny months was the beach that was just a ten minute bike ride away. Night or day, rain or shine, it was your favorite place to hide from the lonely reality that you grew to know. It was the only thing that London lacked.

Finally the sun started to set earlier and the days quickly faded to night, bringing along the end of August and the start of a new school year. The taxi ride from Heathrow airport to campus seemed to be the longest thirty minutes of your life. But after you dragged your luggage from the taxi trunk you were nearly tackled by a hug from your best friend. After a long session of catching up and unpacking, you felt happier than you had in months. You felt as if you were laid out on the beach without a cloud in the sky. Classes went on as normal and your social life excelled along with your grades. Bringing you to where you are now. 

You and Brian had taken over your dorm for the day because your roommate Sally had gone home for the weekend. Both you and Brian were nursing pretty wicked hangovers after a very intense party the night before. You sat at your desk staring at the textbook in front of you, blinking to try and see straight. Brian sat on your bed with his guitar on his lap as he strummed softly to some tune he had made up.  

“I think I’m finally going to do it,” he spoke, pulling you from your textbook induced trance. You spun around in your chair, happy to have a distraction, but confused by the statement.

“What are you finally going to do?” You questioned, your head throbbed a little from twisting around so quickly. Brian looked up at you and slowly set his guitar down, leaning his back against the wall that your bed was pushed against. 

“I’m going to start a band, Y/n! Well, I’m actually going to put flyers up around campus and hopefully people will respond so then I can start a band,” he seemed utterly ecstatic while telling you his plans for the future. You nodded along as he talked, taking in his words and the excitement that was etched across his face. A smile overtook your expression as a thought popped into your head. This could be something big.

October 5, 1968

You stood with Brian throughout his desperate search for decent band mates. Luckily, Tim Staffell, who he had met at a concert, was all in favor of joining Brian’s new band. Now with a guitarist and a singing bassist, the duo needed a drummer. The desperate search frustrated the three of you after seeing the same mediocre drum skills over and over again. You three decided to take a break, blow some steam, and have a few drinks at Tim’s apartment. One drink turned into two and two turned into five and five became eight until you felt drunk off your ass. 

Brian had discovered early on in your friendship that you had a passion for music but you never seemed to elaborate on it whenever he brought it up. He also knew that if he got you drunk enough you would get giggly and start revealing things about yourself that you hardly ever talked about. That wasn’t his intention when he suggested to drink a few beers, but that didn’t stop him from listening when you started to giggle before you spoke.

“Guess what,” you giggled out, taking another drink from your beer bottle as the boys both turned their gaze towards you. “You guys are going to be so pissed. I can actually play the piano and the drums,” you said between giggles. Brian and Tim both sat up quickly from the couch that they rested on. 

“You’re saying that this whole time we have been searching for a drummer when we’ve had one with us the whole time?” Tim interrogated you, but his voice spoke without a hint a malice. 

“Uh-huh, I didn’t want to tell you guys though because I have no desire to be in a band. Plus I’d hate to be in a band with my best friend, break up, and then have it ruin our friendship. That would be soul crushing,” the words tumbled from your mouth before you even knew what you were saying. “Oh shit, you guys are friends, my bad,” you mumbled before draping yourself across the chair you sat on as you laughed. Brian and Tim looked at each other with raised eyebrows before looking back at you in your alcohol induced giggle-fit. Brian chuckled and took a swig from his beer bottle. Your infectious laughter and charming smile brought a grin to his lips. Tim eventually joined in on your and Brian’s giddey feeling, leaving the three of you laughing like maniacs. 

October 14, 1968

By four o’clock in the afternoon, you, Brian, and Tim felt as if you had completely lost a majority of your collective brain cells. The three of you had been stuck in a lecture theatre on campus that Brian rented out so the band could hold auditions for drummers all day. After seeing about six different people play you felt like your brain had turned to mush. Hearing the same few songs over and over was starting to give you a massive headache. You sat on a couch that Tim had managed to smuggle into the audition space as some lanky red haired boy tried, and failed, to maintain a steady tempo on the drums. 

The boy was clearly nervous, but nerves and music do not work well together. After  the three audition songs, Brian stood up and began to speak in the nicest tone he could muster.

“That was great, thank you. I think we are going to need some time to think over our decision. We’ll give you a call soon,” he said as the boy shakily stood up and grabbed his things. He responded to with only a nod and quickly fled from the room. Brian plopped back down on the right side of the couch while you sat in the middle with Tim on your left. Tim shifted his arm so that it rested across the top of the couch as he turned to look at you. 

“What do you think Y/n? In your own professional drumming opinion,” Tim asked  with a cheeky smile on his face as you turned to nudge his shoulder. 

“I’m certainly not a professional drummer, but even I can tell that whatever-his-name-is can’t drum for shit,” you signed, sinking further into the couch.

“Well, we only have one more hour and then we can leave and get some decent food. In the meantime, do you guys need anything? I’m going to run down the hall to the vending machine and get something to drink,” Brian offered, picking himself up from the couch once more. 

“Some aspirin would be great Bri,” you joked as he waved you off while walking out of the room, heading to the other side of the building. 

“Alone at last,” Tim whispered in your ear making goosebumps flourish all over your skin. “We’ve got at least five minutes,” he grabbed your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours in a rush of passion and hunger. You and Tim had secretly started hooking up ever since you woke up at his apartment the day after you got drunk and spilled the news of your secret music skills. Brian had to leave early that morning to run some errands, leaving you and Tim alone for the first time. You started of with just talking and teasing, but it soon became flirting and kissing and next thing you knew you were naked in Tim’s bed. 

You’d both promised to not tell Brian in hopes that it would prevent him from getting angry at you both. Honestly, you felt kind of bad for lying to your best friend but it seemed like the right thing to do. Plus its not like you and Tim were dating. What was going on between you two was more of a casual hookup than anything. As great as relationships may seem, you were never much of a fan of dating. 

Tim had you pinned against the couch as he brought his knee between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed core as a moan escaped your lips. He swallowed your pretty sounds as your hands traveled down his body, reached for his growing bulge. His lips traveled down your neck and towards your breasts. He stuck his face inside your shirt earning a giggle from you that soon became a moan as he sucked on the top of your left breast and gripped your hips. 

“Fuck Timmy, that feels so-”

“Hey guys-oH MY GOD,” Brian exclaimed turning around so he didn’t have to face you and shielding his eyes as you and Tim quickly pulled yourself apart. A shorter, but attractive blonde-brunette boy stood behind Brian with wide eyes and his mouth turned up in a smirk. You and Tim stood up from the couch and adjusted your clothing as Brian slowly began to turn around. “When did you guys start-” Brian began quietly but quickly cut himself off. “Nevermind, not the time. Uh this is Roger he’s here to audition.” Brian turned and gestured to Roger who waved his hand that held two drum sticks. “Roger, this is our bassist and lead singer Tim, and my best friend Y/n. Who is apparently much closer with Tim than I first thought,” He mumbled the last part more to himself, but everyone still heard it. Roger let out a small chuckle as your cheeks began to turn red. 

“You can, um, warm up or whatever you need before you start,” Tim instructed Roger, trying to cut the awkward tension in the air. You looked over at Brian who sat in the middle of the couch in order to separate you and Tim. You took a seat on Brian’s right as Roger moved towards the drumset and began to tune it.

“What are you doing,” Brian said after looking up at Roger with the drums.

“I’m tuning them,” he replied as if it was obvious. Brian turned his head towards you, with raised eyebrows and his mouth slightly agape. 

“I didn’t know that was a thing,” he muttered and you smiled at his exasperated expression. Roger finished what he had been doing and began to play the first audition song. It was by far the best rendition that you had heard all day. It sounded extremely similar to the original song but with an added dash of flair that you assumed Roger used to show off a little. When he had finished playing the three audition songs you started to clap, bringing a large smile to the blonde’s face. While Brian and Tim didn’t join in on your clapping, you could still tell that they were just as impressed as you were. 

Roger stood up, sweeping his long strands of hair behind his ears as his made his way towards where you three were seated on the couch. Brian shot up from the couch to shake Rogers hand as he approached them. Tim slowly followed and you stood soon after. A smile spread across Brian’s face after he shook Roger’s hand, earning a suspicious look from you. He’s going to say something stupid, isn’t he? Brian looked straight into Roger’s eyes and said the words you knew were coming. “You’re in.” 

Taglist: @retromusicsalad