Time Waits For No One (A Freddie Mercury Fanfiction)

Battle of The Bands

Saturday afternoon, you and Freddie awoke with a bit of a late start. After the rehearsal last night, Tim offered to take everyone out for drinks. Of course hardly any of the boys thought this was a good idea the night before the show. So it was just you, Tim, and Freddie.

You had a great time at a little pub near the college, The Dove, you thought it was called. Actually no, in fact you remember it specifically being called that as you got so hammered that you began singing a line from The Prophet's Song—"Return like the white dove". Freddie of course didn't understand and neither did Tim for that matter, but Freddie thought it was rather cute.

Of course the stone-cold hammer of sobering up had left you and Freddie with quite a hangover. But after a long battle with slowly succumbing to the blinding mid afternoon light shining through the drapes, you finally got up. Freddie was still asleep, you'd let him sleep. God knows how much energy he'd need for tonight's excitement, you just knew he was going to have a ball.

You slowly made your way into the kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of rather bitter water and starting on breakfast. The fridge had practically nothing in it—a usual for this household. You'd need to remind yourslef to go grocery shopping later this week. Neither Freddie, Tim, nor Paul did much in the way of shopping.

You didn't run into Paul much, he was always busy. He was sweet though, always able to deal with Freddie's ups and downs. He had a little joke of always calling Freddie 'Freddie Baby', almost in a teasing cutesy way as to describe Freddie's ever-changing moods and desires.

Chris was a great flatmate. He was always so accommodating of you and Freddie staying here. Every now and then he'd get a bit frustrated, but you could understand that, you and Freddie were rather high-maintenance. But you all had a grand-old time and since you'd been back from your breakup, he'd been rather glad to have you back.

For now the house was empty accept for you and Freddie. Breakfast slowly came together with what you had. You then placed it all on a little tray Freddie had fallen in love with at some thrift store ages ago. Since then, all he ever wanted was breakfast in bed, and you had fun making it for him and you.

You entered the back bedroom quietly and softly called out, "Good morning Freddie". The response you got was a rather stifled breath of awakening air and a groan, "Freddie?" you called sweetly.

Freddie rolled over and stuck his head underneath his pillow, "Fucking Chris," he muttered from under the pillow, "Do we have to open those damn drapes every day?"

"Well good morning to you too," you laughed, there was always some form of amusement you got from seeing him frustrated about little things.

Freddie rolled over to face you, "Sorry dear, good morning," he gave a cheeky smile.

"I brought you breakfast in bed," you replied setting down the tray at the foot of the bed and crawling back into the bed with Freddie.

"Ooh! Splendid. What have we got today?" he asked, perking up a bit more.

"Well for our first course," you began, you loved to play a long with his camp little expressions, "We've got a lovely spot of tea," you imitated his accent as best you could, "I saved the last early grey for you".

"Thank you very much," he added quickly with a smile.

"For the second course, I've prepared two eggs sunny side up with a garnish of salt and pepper," you continued taking a sort of pride in your work.

"Fancy," Freddie approved.

"Thank you," you replied before continuing on, "The third course is of course toast with a bit of jam across the top, now Freddie I know you aren't necessarily the biggest fan of sliced bread, so I made yours on a small leftover french roll I found at the back of the cabinet, so I can't exactly trust its age, but I'm sure you'll be fine".