Find Me Somebody (Possibly BxB Gay Story) AU A Queen(The Band) Fic.

This is all fiction. Except for some of the people.

Chapter 2

Freddie's Life c:

Freddie sat up with a loud groan in his large room, in his humongous bed. He looked around and picked up his cat and stroked her fur. He always loved kittens and cats. Even as a little boy. He mumbled some baby talk to her and carried her into the kitchen. He sat her carefully on the beautiful marble kitchen floor. She yelped for food and laid on his feet. Freddie slightly pushed her off of his feet and made his way over to the cabinet. "Alright dear! What should we have today? Chicken and cilantro? Beef and carrots?" Freddie said out loud to his cat. She mewled loudly at the first one and he took that as a yes and poured it into her fancy food bowl. He sniffled and set it on the floor. His cats were his only companions now. Not that he minded it, He just..Well..Even though he hated to admit it..He missed the boys.


The way Brian acted like he knew everything and like he was always right, even though Freddie knew most of the time HE was right. Not Brian. He chuckled at that.
The way Roger would whine like a child asking his mum for a lolli when Freddie and Brian would fight, or anytime for that matter. The way John would always side with Freddie even though Freddie knew he loved Brian. He had just put out an album after the band..well...He honestly didn't know if they had broken up or..were just..apart.


He started to dig through all his drawers and closets, he was searching for one of the boys number. He let out a few profanities as he searched and searched and then finally and let out a cry of happiness when he found the little blonde's number. He dashed to the phone like a madman.

He picked it up and dialed the number. He sat there, totally quiet until a odd, unfamiliar voice picked up the phone. "Hellloooo?" A high, posh, woman's voice said. Freddie furrowed his eyebrows. "Roger, knock it off mate. This isn't funny!" He yelled into the phone. The other person laughed a high, girly laugh. "There hasn't been a Roger here in months dear!" The mysterious person cackled. Freddie got a chill down his spine. "Alright. Well, do you have his current residence or number?" He breathed quietly into the phone.
"Why of course I do! His residence is London Borough of Camden, Haringey and Islington. Number 52." The strange voice laughed with a darkness in their voice and hung up swiftly.


Freddie shuddered and called the operator, "Yes, London Telephone Operator speaking." Freddie coughed into his arm quickly and then cleared his throat. "Yes, hello. I am looking for the adress of London Borough of Camden, Haringey and Islington. Could you please give me directions?" He said with a firmness in his voice. It sounded more like a command rather than a question. The operator gave him the directions and he rushed to his door.

He speedily slid his arms through his thick wool coat and slipped his tennis shoes on and gripped his keys tightly. He rushed down the street and followed the directions to every last detail. He arrived at a graveyard and stood there in shock. "No..No." He whispered to himself. He looked at the directions again. He had followed them perfectly. He wiped the tears that were beginning to swell up his vision and began searching for gravestone number 52. He could only find a 51 and 53. Not a 52.

He saw a giant house right on the outside fence of the graveyard. He hoped it was a house and not a mini-mausoleum. He ran to the house as fast as his long, skinny legs would take him. He fell to the steps of the house and began banging on the door with both of his bony fists. "ROGER!, ROGER! PLEASE!" He screamed at the top of his breath and began to sob. "Roger. Please open the door." He looked up when he heard a doorknob starting to turn.

There stood a very hungover, messy haired, half naked Roger. Freddie crawled over to him and wrapped his arms around his legs. "Why do you live next to this horrid, creepy place?" Freddie gave him an odd look. Roger Chuckled. "I knew it would keep you away." He said cockily with a wink.

Freddie scowled and stood up. "You dirty bastard!" He slapped him playfully.
Roger giggled like a school girl and dragged Freddie in the kitchen. "I'm making breakfast dear!" He said excitedly. Freddie laughed so hard he almost passed out. "Are you sure you can do it without burning the house down?!?" He poked fun at Roger's horrid cooking skills.

Roger acted like a child that had just been teased. He crossed his arms and stuck his lips out. "I CAN do it, Freddie!" He said with a huff and continued cooking. "Now. If you don't mind, you walked in on my breakfast. I'll kindly have to ask you to leave if you are going to be like this." He said in a mocking of Freddie's posh accent.
Freddie scoffed. "I do NOT sound like that!" He exclaimed and walked up behind Roger.

Roger chuckled heartily. "Oh yes you do!" He said sing-songily.
Freddie somehow had managed with his arms wrapped around Roger's waist.
When Roger noticed he took a deep gasp and squirmed out. "What are you doing Freddie?!?" He slapped him with a hand towel.
Freddie shrugged. "I don't know but I think I like it Darling." He smirked.
Roger ignored that comment. "What are you really here for, Freddie?" He was very curious.


Freddie piped up. "I'm here to get the band back together."
Roger dropped his steaming hot cup of coffee all over his bare feet at that statement.
"You are here to do what?!?"


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