Drunk!Brian x Reader

39-volunteers-to-space:

A/N: this bit was inspired by a recording of Brian (x) and I immediately felt inspired to write it. this is going to have tons of typos maybe because its 5am and im thisclose to collapsing. please send some positive vibes if u can because i have 2 exams today  i probably will not survive but hey!! 

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London, 1972

Your fiancé is a grown man. A smart, sensible, courteous, responsible grown man.

These were the things you kept repeating to yourself as you sat in the light of a candlestick waiting for him to come home.

He did tell you he was going to be home late, a big gig and all since Queen was starting to draw a crowd the more they played,  but you didn’t think it would be 4AM late. You flexed your aching shoulders and sighed.

He’s a rockstar. Or rather he’s well on his way to becoming one.
And you’re not very sure if you have the ability to keep up with his life.
Brian has always been a busy man even before Queen, even before Smile. You couldn’t explain it, but there was always this hunger in him to improve himself, for whatever reason you’re not sure.

He tried cooking once in the early days when you first moved in together, during the days you were finishing your thesis and barely had the time nor appetite to eat. On the second week that you grabbed a slice of plain bread for dinner, he immediately called up his mum and asked how to cook.

You recall smelling the food before he even served it. You had your nose in your codal book when he approached from behind you, giving you a swift peck on your shoulder before putting down a bowl of shepherd’s pie and garlic bread with a glass of apple juice.

“You should eat love. Your brain won’t function if you’re starving,” he smiled, but you can detect the nervousness in his voice.

Your heart swelled at the kind gesture. You gave him a sweet kiss. “I must have done something good before to have you in my life.”

He nuzzled your nose and sat in front of you, avidly watching.  At that time, you didn’t know what you were putting in your mouth. Immediately upon contact on the food on your tongue, you thought that Brian was definitely poisoning you. The endless sleepless nights and barely eating had taken a toll on your body and now he’s too disgusted to live with you and has decided to kill you.  You felt your lips shrivel from how salty it was. The roof of your mouth burned and you felt the saliva flooding from under your tongue. You were amazed at the willpower you possessed not to gag on the spot and spit it out. 

Brian was watching.

With every ounce of strength you could muster, you immediately swallowed the vile thing and grabbed the apple juice and downed it.

“Mmmm.” you mummed, smacking your lips in an effort to return a semblance of moistness and avoid it bleeding while appearing to have enjoyed his food.

You couldn’t bare to look at his face. You could already feel what he was feeling.  “You don’t have to pretend, love.” he said quietly. It broke your heart. 

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