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John held up the ruined pair of white jeans shorts, paling. It was Freddie’s favourite pair… And they now had pink stains splattered all over them. Oh crap.
Putting down the pair of shorts, John instead turned to Roger’s favourite silk top. The good thing was that he’d still be able to wear it, if he kept it unbuttoned. The bad thing was that it would probably not even reach his bellybutton by now.
This was why John should never, never, be in charge of laundry. He didn’t know enough about different temperatures and fabrics and stuff…
“Hello darling! Back already?”
Shit! John quickly tried to shove the shorts and top beneath the rest of the laundry but Freddie was already beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“So good to have you back dear…” Freddie purred, placing kisses up John’s neck. “Wait.” He stopped. “Are those my shorts?”
John closed his eyes, took a deep breath.
“Darling. Are those my shorts.” Freddie’s voice was ice as he pushed John away and dove into the laundry pile.
“What is going on?” Brian asked as he and Roger walked into the bedroom, stopping on either side of John. The next second Freddie let out a loud, hurt whine.
“MY SHORTS!”
John winced. “I’m sorry Fred I…”
Roger had stepped past John to look. He let out an amused snort. “Nice fashion statement Deaky.”
“Oh my god what have you done!” Freddie cried, cradling the shorts to his chest and staring at John with betrayal and heartbreak in his eyes.
“Babe I didn’t mean to alright?”
Brian coughed into his hand, aborting a chuckle if John knew him right. He glared at the grinning guitarist over his shoulder and Brian just put his hands up.
Meanwhile Roger had spotted his silk top and let out a screech. “DEAKY!”
“Run.” Brian muttered to John, still trying not to laugh and John punched him in the arm.
Freddie fell back dramatically on the bed, still holding his ruined shorts close to his chest. “I can’t believe you…” He muttered. “Unforgivable... “ He rolled around in the dry laundry, whining. “Jerk!”
“Actually…” Roger frowned, holding the top up. “I can work with this.” He threw off the shirt he was wearing and instead slipped on the silk top. Much as John had suspected, he wouldn’t be able to close it and it only reached his waist, but somehow it still fit him perfectly.
“Looks good love. Maybe Deaks does have a hidden sense of fashion after all!” Brian chuckled, dancing away as John aimed more light punches at him.
Freddie had stopped rolling around, and pouted up at Roger. “You look like a jerk.” He sniffled and Roger gasped.
“You take that back!” The drummer yelled and when Freddie shook his head he pounced on top of him on the bed, wrestling the whining Freddie in the middle of John’s half finished sorting of the laundry.
John sighed and crossed his arms, eyeing his boyfriends who were yelling and rolling around, pulling at clothes and hair.
“We should never leave you with the laundry.” Brian stated, lightly bumping John’s hip with his as he came up next to him again.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” John said tiredly, leaning into his boyfriend’s warmth when Brian huffed in amusement and wrapped an arm around him.
Freddie and Roger had stopped wrestling, it seemed like Roger had emerged victorious. He sat on top of Freddie’s hips, grinning down at him, bare chest heaving beneath the open silk, hair a tangled mess.
Freddie was glaring up at him, his shorts somehow having ended up on his head like a weird hat. “You suck.” He pointed at Roger. “You suck even more.” He pointed at John.
“I’ll buy you a new pair, I promise.” John muttered.
“Promise?” Freddie was still pouting but now his eyes were brightening with excitement.
John sighed and nodded. “Promise. Let’s go tomorrow.”
“Alright then. But they better be even better than the poor ruined ones and I’m telling you, that won’t be easy... “ He dug one pointy finger into Roger’s stomach. “Go continue with dinner, you tart. I want that lasagna darling and it’s not going to cook itself.”
Roger scrunched his nose up and poked Freddie back before crawling off him. He kept the altered top on and gave John a light kiss on the cheek and then Brian a slap on the ass before he left the bedroom to go finish making dinner.
Brian jumped and flushed prettily, then hurried after Roger, leaving John with Freddie in the bedroom. John stared at Freddie who still laid spread eagle in the middle of the laundry. “Give me a hand?” John asked.
Freddie pouted and whined some more but then ultimately did.
- - -
The next day Freddie and John both returned home with a pair of identical white shorts each. All was forgiven but John was forbidden from doing laundry, to his delight. He knew it would be a good idea to fail on purpose to get out of doing the chore in the future.