#blind!brian

“Oh, you’re blind? How many fingers am I holding up?” the assistant said while laughing, holding up two fingers. 

Why was that always the reaction he got to telling someone he was blind? A damn finger test, as if they were his ophthalmologist or something. And why, when he said he was completely blind, did people still think he could see their grubby little fingers being held up?

Brian sighed, his teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw. This was never funny to him. While the idiots who threw him these random tests thought it was hilarious, Brian found it humiliating. 

But, Brian wasn’t one to lash out. He smoldered in silence and forced a smile. He let out a strained laugh before reaching out to his side to grab his white cane to leave the room. He couldn’t tolerate another second next to this jerk.

He felt around for his cane but came up empty handed. He swore he set it right next to where he was standing, leaning against the table. 

“Did my cane fall?” Brian asked as he groped the table fruitlessly.

“Oh, no, I moved it. It was in the way,” The empty headed assistant said. 

Brian’s stomach lurched. Oh yes. His cane, the thing he used to navigate this world was in the way. How silly of him. Was he now expected to crawl on the floor to find it? Apologize for his disability being a minor convince to someone? His hands turned into fists and his throat tightened up. 

“What’s this business about moving Brian’s cane?” Freddie said as he entered the room, a slight sharpness to his tone. 

Brian’s knees almost buckled. Oh, thank god it was Freddie. One of the few people who’d go to blows with someone for him. Brian oriented himself towards Freddie’s voice, his face falling flat miserably, his eyes threatening to water. 

Freddie took one look at Brian before his vision locked onto the assistant. 

“Tell me, whatever you name is, are you a smart man?” Freddie asked, taking lazy steps towards the assistant. The assistant nodded, not sure of what was happening.

“Hmm. Can you tell me what smart man moves a blind man’s cane away from him?”

The assistant gulped. “I didn’t k-”

“Didn’t know? That world famous guitarist for Queen, Brian May, is blind? Something talked about in all the tabloids and shows?”

The assistant shook his head.

“Can you tell me then, why are you working for us if you know nothing about us? Couldn’t be arsed to look in the newspaper about your employers? That shows laziness. Ineptitude. I don’t want either of those qualities on my work team,” Freddie said, his head tilting.

Brian could hear the assistant shaking.

“So, before you pack your things, I’d like you to find Brian’s white cane and bring it back to him. And apologize for your ignorance,” Freddie said, his voice growing lower as he spoke. 

The assistant nodded, running out of the room to find Brian’s cane. Freddie sighed before turning to Brian and pulling him into a hug.

“So sorry about that, luvvy,” He said, giving the taller man a nuzzle.

Brian hugged back, chuckling. “Don’t apologize. That was a brilliant take down, Fred. He might need to change his pants from how hard he just pissed in them.” Freddie snorted.

“Well, you know, I do what I can. Nobody messes with Brimi. Especially someone that dumb,” Freddie said.

Oh gosh, yes.

The moment they see NASA has accessible material for blind people, they’re draining their wallets dry for their best friend.

Space isn’t very blind friendly. At least, not the academic/sciencey part of it. Brian tried anyways. He can’t see the night sky or look through a telescope, but he can read about the wonders and mysteries of space and it captured his heart at a young age. Everyone told him it was too hard, not worth the struggle, pointless, but he went after an astrophysics degree despite the negativity. 

I could see the boys giving him this book as a push to keep going. That they support him no matter what. They support his goal to touch and hear the stars. 

The moment his hands touch the book, he’s in tears. He’s spent years learning about space and although he’s made his own makeshift graphs and diagrams, this blows them all out of the water.

The sun feels beautiful on his fingers. He can feel the fire burning on the surface. He can feel the Earth and it’s continents. The craters of the moon.

Every page gets wet with his tears. He can’t stop thanking the boys for this gift. It’s just what he needed to keep fighting. His name will be known not just for his music but for his discoveries in space. For pioneering things that’ll get humans that much closer to the stars.

The boys give him the biggest hug and drown him in kisses. He’ll be there star boy no matter what.

And Brian does end up going far in the field of astronomy. Thanks to the love and support of his friends, he does things people thought impossible. He learns how to listen to stars. How to identify stars, especially new ones with sonification ( X ). The first time a scientists has done that! 

The boys figure out when Brian is clinging onto them..in his own house.

They’re like dude. We know damn well you are not lost.

And Brian is like no no no, I am, I have to hold onto you or I’ll die. 

Mhm.

The boys make sure to give Brian as many cuddles as they can so he can drop the helpless blind man act. Some people are starting to believe it!! Random roadies just looping their arm around him to help him out and Brian is like, what the hell are you doing I know where I’m going *points to white cane* and the Roadie is like, you were asking John for help 2 minutes ago??

Freddie and Roger sat on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed, faces indignant. 

“You would’ve won if you hadn’t piled drived me like that,” Roger says quietly to Freddie. Freddie smirked, remembering the move he did on Roger only minutes ago, which most certainly wasn’t a piledriver.

“Well, you would’ve won had you not bitten me,” Freddie replies, pointing to the teeth marks all over his left arm. Roger smiled shyly, remembering too the frenzy from earlier.

Both their attentions turned to Brian and John, sitting close on the couch. Brian’s hands were slowly rubbing and tracing over John’s skin.

“He only won because he’s a little sneaky shit,” Roger grumbled, making Freddie snort.

Earlier that night, Brian had stammered out something about not knowing how his bandmates looked like. It wasn’t a habit of his, but he grew close to people, he wanted to know what they looked like. It was a rather intimate affair, which is why he was quite reserved when bringing it up.

He got a reaction he had not expected. Freddie and Roger immediately began fighting for who’d go first, a sure sign they were just as excited as he was to do this. 

Of course, those two took it over board. Brian could hear spatting and wrestling and squeals of pain. He didn’t exactly try to stop it…When in a blind mans lifetime would people fight over their turn to get their faces grouped by him?? He had to relish every second of it.

John was not surprisingly quiet throughout the fight, Brian assuming he too was watching. He couldn’t help but to grin when he felt a weight sink the couch cushion next to him. What a smart kid.

Softly, John asked, “While they fight, can I go first?”

“Absolutely, Deacy,” Brian said, wanting to applaud the youngest’s aptitude.

The two hysterical Queens didn’t even notice when Brian began to touch John’s face, only stopping their cat fight when Brian was nearly done.

John’s face was flushed the whole time Brian worked his fingertips against his skin. It was incredibly…awkward, in the same way your first kiss is.

“Oh..you have bushy brows!” Brian said with a laugh, running his thumbs back and forth through John’s eyebrows. John scrunched them together, making Brian chuckle again.

His fingers traced down John’s temples, smoothing gently over closed eyelids then slid down his nose bridge. He rubbed at the tip for a second, making John’s nose wiggle before spreading out to touch his cheeks, meeting back in the middle to run over his lips.

“Thin lips..like me,” he said in a near whisper, making Deacy smile. 

Brian finished by brushing his finger tips over John’s chin, pulling away after.

“You’re lovely mate. Thanks for letting me do that,” he said, brain processing the dips and peaks of John’s face, trying to make a mental image of it. 

Freddie was next, Roger oh so graciously letting him go.

Brian was quiet at first, nothing remarkable about Freddie’s forehead or eyes. He only let out a surprised nose when he started tracing Freddie’s nose.

“So..sharp! So tall. Reminds me of those roman busts we got to feel as kids. Strong nose. I bet it’s beautiful,” Brian said, Freddie unable to hold back a wide smile. 

He continued his venture, moving onto the singer’s cheeks. Brian’s eyebrows shot up. “I can feel your cheek bones, Fred! Do you eat?” he asked jokingly, rubbing the protruding bones in a circle.

“Wait ‘till you get to the jaw darling,” Freddie said, bragging, because, when didn’t he?

But he was right. Freddie’s jaw felt astounding. So defined and bold.

Brian finished with a light smack to Freddie’s cheeks, commenting that he must look like a Roman statue. Freddie agreed that he did with a snicker.

Roger was last.

“Roger…your forehead is giant,” Brian said, knowing Roger could take a good teasing. His fingers ran down that seemingly endless forehead of his best friend.

“Oh hush, you,” Roger said, swatting at Brian’s side.

Brian kept chuckled as his fingers found Roger’s closed eyes. He moved his fingers side to side over the blond’s eyelashes, astounded at how fluffy they were.

“You’ve got some lashes on you. Bet you’re the pretty one of us, eh?” Brian said, receiving only a grumble back from Roger.

His fingers kept going, feeling Roger’s nose. It was weirdly sloped downward. Reminded him of those shrews he felt in one of those animal programs. He’d keep that comment to himself though.

He continued his way down Roger’s face, feeling his cheeks, little lips and prominent chin.

“Yeah, I can see why you’re the fan favorite,” Brian said as he pulled his hands away.

They all giggled and snorted at that, Brian shaking his head.

“Uh, thank you guys for that, um,” Brian was trying to find his words. It was a rather weird thing to do. How do you thank people for that? 

He stumbled around a bit before deciding to say, “We really are a handsome bunch, aren’t we?”

“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have braille menus here,” the waitress said as she handed the couple two menus with a smile before walking away from the table.

“Ah, they never do,” Roger said with a light hearted chuckle, holding the menu before him to take a look. “Guess you’ll have to hear my beautiful voice drone on about gravy and steak again,” he added, a smile in his voice.

Brian wasn’t smiling though. He held the menu before him, as if he could read it, hoping he’d hide the sour look on his face.

It was always like this. Everywhere Brian went, there were little to no accomodations for blind people. And if there were any, they were old, outdated and not worth the hassle of using. 

So that meant Roger had to act more like an assistant than his boyfriend. Reading pages upon pages from menus and pamphlets. Holding his arm like a child when they were walking in horribly laid out areas. Narrating football matches when the announcer decided yelling obnoxiously was more important than describing the game.

It must’ve been so terribly annoying for Roger.

He must’ve annoyed Roger.

Roger never complained, but how much could one person take? Nothing was ever straight forward. Everything was always a thing for them. How could Roger be content doing this day in and out?

Brian sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” tumbled from his lips, quietly but tinged with pain. 

Roger paused for a moment, blinking and looking around for what might have caused Brian to apologize. His detective work proved no results so he asked, “For what?”

Brian let the menu fall on the table, the lamination making an awful sound against the metal table. His face grew heavy, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He shrugged as he spoke, “For everything, I guess. You’re my live in nurse, not my boyfriend, it seems,”

Now, Roger was always very sensitive when it came to these topics. He had well enough vision, never having to struggle with a world made for the sighted. But he snorted. He let out a loud snort followed by some belly shaking giggles. Brian couldn’t have been serious, could he?

“A nurse because I read you the menus?” he said, pitch growing in disbelief. 

Brian’s eyebrows perked and fell. “Yeah. It’s so much. We don’t get to go out and just enjoy each other. There’s always something you have to do for me. And I’m sorry. It’s not fair,” he said.

Maybe Roger was playing this off as a joke, too afraid to admit something so awful in public. But it was true and Brian knew it. His little blond must’ve been bored being his seeing eye dog. 

There was an awkward silence rippling between the two. The laughs he let out just moments ago felt incredibly rude now. The smile melted from his face as he digested the words, nodding to himself. 

Could it be tedious at times? Of course. Were their times he found having to explain things that could so easily be written in braille bothersome? Sure.

But did he find himself unhappy with their relationship? Did he loathe assisting Brian?

Absolutely not.

In fact, he found it wonderful. Being blind in an uncaring world can be so isolating. Seeing Brian thrive and experience things he couldn’t before makes Roger elated. And being the person to give Brian that door into the seeing makes Roger proud.

They were in public though and for once, words failed Roger. All he could say was, “Darling, I’d read the menus for you until my eyeballs fell out. And even then, I wouldn’t complain or be even the slightest bit mad at you. Never,”

Perhaps not as elegant as the revelation he had in his head, but it made Brian put out a reluctant smile.

“Really?” the guitarist asked shyly, taken aback by the blunt but sincere confession from the other.

“Wholly,” Roger replied without a seconds hesitation. He reached out for Brian’s hand, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “Don’t ever feel bad, darling. Don’t ever feel like a burden. I do this happily and I do it for you. Yeah?” he added.

Brian wasn’t entirely convinced, but he’d entertain the thought. A big grin stretched on his face, nodding as if to say he wouldn’t feel like a burden anymore. He’d try at least.

“Now, shall I read you the menu? It’s quite riveting this one,” Roger said with a laugh. 

Written and submitted by: @iamnotbrianmay

It's literally nobody's fault but Brian's.

One second he is rocking the stadium, the next his face feels like an inferno. In those few seconds of absolute agony, all he can think about is that he is going to die in front of twenty-five thousand people.

Then the world comes back to him, and he is laying in a semi-comfortable bed. The pain has lessened, but he is still dizzy enough to know that the wounds will hurt like nothing he has ever felt once he is off the medication keeping him partially painless.

Oh, and he can't see.

Logically, he knows that there is gauze over his eyes and bandages that go across his face, but the anxious part of his brain screams at him about how he probably is permanently blind. And oh god he can't breathe.

How will he write songs? Or read books? Or roam around the stage?

His world tilts for the second time in less than five minutes, how will he see the stars?

He feels someone touch his arm, and nearly jumps a foot into the air. But then John is running a hand through his hair, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, and letting Brian sweat out the rising panic in his chest.

Once his shaking has lessened to small tremors, John presses a soft kiss to the spot right above his ear, "Hey, sweetheart. I'm so glad you're back. We've missed you."

♚

Legally Blind.

Brian was declared legally blind on a Tuesday evening, and the world came crumbling around him.

Regardless, he counts his miracles because he isn't entirely blind, just partially. Peripheral Field Loss, enough for him to see his lovers' smiling faces as he manages to focus his eyes on them. It's not much, but it's just enough to have tears well up in his eyes, and thank whatever force is looking out for him.

Still, he is sent home with a white cane and with a thousand-page guide to legal blindness. In letters that he can't read, of course, because the things he can read need to be ridiculously large and that would be even worse than not being able to read. He doesn't need to waster that much paper, thank you very much, not when he has three partners willing and able to read the manual for him.

It's hard at first, and every day seems like a challenge, every single task he can't perform making him more frustrated than before. But he works through them little by little, with one of his loves beside him at every turn.

♚

His real breaking point comes when he looks up and sees nothing but inky blackness when his partners are 'ooh'-ing and 'aah' -ing at the sight before them. Brian sat quietly beside them, careful not to reveal his latest disgrace. There has been enough drama already.

"Brian, babe, what star is that?"

Brian follows Roger's hand and fixes his eyes on a spot in the sky, trying to appear as if he knew what the blond was talking about one. "The real bright one? The one that is flickering?"

"No, the one beside it."

"Ah," he tries not to let the bitterness seep into his voice, "That would be Betelgeuse."

John frowns, he has paid enough attention to know that the star Roger is pointing at is not Betelgeuse, not even close.

♚

"I promise I won't let you hit anything, just close your eyes."

"Freddie..."

"No, no, please. Humour us."

He lets Freddie guide him into their bedroom, a room which he had been denied entry to for the last two days, forcing him to sleep in the guest room. They usually ended up pilled in the too small bed of the room, and Brian was more than excited to sleep peacefully again.

They laid him on the bed, telling him not to open his eyes just yet. He felt the bed dip and heard the light switch being flicked off, and then Freddie coaxed him to open his eyes.

There, littered on the ceiling, are thousands of glow in the dark stars. Any other person would have passed it off as a romantic gesture, but Brian and his trained eye know that the stars are not pasted randomly to the ceiling.  

Ah, he thinks, that's why they took two whole days.

He only realises he is crying when he tries to speak, but instead of words, a small sob comes out.

"It's nothing like the real thing, we know, but—"

"I love them, Fred."

"Really?"

He nods, never taking his eyes away from the stars on his ceiling, "I love them so much."

Brian is of course used to not seeing so it’s not too nerve wracking when he’s in a new place. Especially if he brings his white cane with him. So Brian isn’t sure where they exactly are but he knows they’re safe! 

So if Deacy clings to him he’s just like, “Don’t worry, mate, we are somewhere close to the backroom. Just hold on and I’ll try to find us some seats,” and the two waddle to a couch and sit down, waiting for John’s blood pressure to go back up so he can see. 

Three minutes later John’s vision comes back and he’s like “Oh my god, we’re in Roger’s dressing room, how did that happen,”

“Yeah,” Roger says, an ass who stayed quiet the whole time to see how long it would take them to figure it out. 

I’m out of the loop, I had to look up what an imagine is. Let me know if I’m doing this correctly!

They first meet in a school for the deaf and blind. Well, meet is a tricky term. Roger could wave and Brian could say hello, but interactions were more difficult than they were worth. They stuck to their classmates for the most part.

The only reason they want to interact is because Brian brings in a lovely red guitar to school one day and Roger’s interest is piqued. 

Of course, the language barrier is still there, so Roger on the spot decides, he’s gonna learn braille. He’s just gotta speak to that curly haired guitar player.

And he does, with the help of some of the teachers.

Communicating the in beginning is miserable work for the both of them. Roger finds himself talking, only to remember Brian can’t see his fingers. Brian does the same with his voice.

Oddly enough, they’re both quite fascinated with each other, so they make it work.

By the time the older graduates, they have a weird system in place. Brian finger spells and Roger replies in braille. 

Romance doesn’t come into play well after their schooling days. Without students or teachers hovering around, it kind of just happens. 

They were probably up all night, chatting in their slow but worthwhile way. Roger describes the stars to Brian and Brian tells Roger about the owls hooting and crickets chirping. And then they kiss. It’s awkward and bad, but it’s so good and sweet.

After that, their language evolves into something unwritten or unspoken. Simple touches convey paragraphs. Body postures and expressions say everything for them. 

Of course, as the years go by, technology improves drastically, allowing them to speak much easier to one another. But it’s not always necessary.

Bonus:

Old Maylor. Roger has it easier. He can simply type what he wants to say and have his phone read it aloud to Brian. Brian on the other hand has to dictate to his phone and hope the text it shows to Roger isn’t crazy.