Work Text:
Mercury lay on his back, legs bent at the knees, in a restless attempt to fall asleep (even in such a position). The black polish on his slender fingers glinted in the moonlight, stray locks of hair fell over his face, and his lips curled around a cigarette, filling the room with a thin veil of smoke. Tiffany lay on the floor, purring softly in a deep sleep. An old Marilyn Monroe movie was playing on the TV, the volume turned down to a ghost of a sound.
Hutton entered the room soundlessly. It was already dark outside. Freddie tilted his head toward him, taking the cigarette from his mouth and giving Jim what was perhaps the most peaceful and lovestruck look of his entire life.
“You’re later than usual,” the singer murmured.
“It’s all because of your roses.” Jim stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. Mercury sat up immediately, wrapping his arms around his husband from behind and pressing a kiss to his neck.
“I was waiting for you.” Fred gently held out his hand with the cigarette, letting Jim take a small drag, while continuing to trail slow kisses along his neck.
“I know,” Hutton turned around, catching Mercury’s lips and drawing him into a lazy, lingering kiss. Breaking away, Freddie reached for the ashtray on the nightstand to stub out the cigarette, then tumbled back into his husband’s arms, climbing onto his lap.
Covering the singer's lips with his own once more, the Irishman pulled him closer, undoing the first two buttons of his snow-white satin shirt. Freddie let out a soft moan, pressing closer to him.
“I love you,” Mercury mumbled, pulling back just enough to catch Jim’s gaze.
“And I love you,” Hutton replied softly, pulling the singer down onto the bed with him. Freddie threw a leg over him, closing his eyes and tucking his face into the crook of Jim’s neck, finally falling into a peaceful sleep.