#deacy request

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader AN: Here is the first of the song requests! I did a fic for this song in my last song fic requests, but I changed it up a little bit for my boy Deacy! I’m still not even sure that this follows anywhere near what the song is going for, but this just came out when I started typing, so hopefully it works! I actually think this is the first time I’ve written anything for John, so I hope you like it 🙂   Song: “Slow Dancing in the Dark” by Joji

It wasn’t that he thought he didn’t deserve you, it was more that he didn’t understand how you could be interested in him when every time you came to one of their shows, there were numerous men trying to take you home. There was even a time when Roger had given it a shot. It was a slight shock to everyone when you turned him down.  

After every show, he would find himself sitting at the bar, waiting to see which lucky gentleman might finally succeed in winning your heart. You would be dancing in the middle of the room, and a man would walk up behind you, place their hands on your waist, and John would feel sick. Then there would be that smile that formed on your lips when you turned, and you would move gently out of their grasp so that you could continue dancing on your own. John almost hated the sense of satisfaction that filled his chest whenever this would happen.

Sometimes girls would come up to talk to him, recognizing him as the bassist of the band that had just been on stage. John would be friendly enough, but his eyes would never leave you, causing most conversations to fizzle out before they could get anywhere. Every once in a while, your eyes would meet his from across the room, and he would smile and finally look away.  

When his eyes moved from yours, he never saw the triumphant smile that crossed your lips. You knew that he was watching, and that’s why you continued dancing. You wanted him to join you, but he never did. You turned all the other guys down because you only wanted one.  

John was your best friend. He knew you, and you knew him, like the back of your hands. The only thing neither one of you could see, however, was the way you felt about one another. John had been there when you had your heart broken a little over a year ago. He could still see that devastation, that brokenness, in your eyes. He swore that day that, if he had anything to do with it, you would never feel that way again.

Since his gaze had been diverted, he didn’t see you approaching him at the bar. It wasn’t until he felt your soft hand on his arm that he finally looked up.

“Can I buy you a drink?” You asked, your voice light. You were smiling softly at him, and he returned the gesture. He held up his half empty beer to show you that he didn’t need one, but you pushed his hand away and laughed.

“I think we’re going to need something a little stronger than that.”  

John’s eyebrows quirked up as you ordered each of you a shot as well as each of you a rum and coke.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” he asked quietly. His heart was racing in his chest at how close you were to him, and when you put your hand on his shoulder, he thought he was going to explode.

“If that will get you on the dancefloor, sure.” You replied, giving him a wink.  

Once the shots were placed in front of you, the two of you quickly downed them. John hissed slightly at the burn, and you watched him with adoring eyes. For a while, you both sat and talked about little things, gently nursing your rum and coke’s. You convinced John to do another shot, and about an hour later, you could tell that John was feeling it.

“How about that dance?” You asked, standing up from your bar stool and holding out your hand. There was a fast song playing, but the beat was moving through you, and you couldn’t resist. There was a moment where John just sat staring at your hand, and you began to worry that he might not take it. Finally, after what felt like several long seconds, John’s hand met yours and you smiled as you pulled him onto the dancefloor.

The way that John danced always made you smile. He was so carefree and so unique in every sort of way. You always wondered why he didn’t do it more often. He was by far your favorite dance partner.

By the third song, the two of you were having a great time. However, halfway through, a tall man approached you and attempted to wrap his arms around your waist. John watched as his hands found your hips, and it took everything in him not to punch him right then and there. Couldn’t he see that you were dancing with him? Of course, that was just the alcohol talking. The tall man was handsome, and John felt himself instantly start to back away.

You noticed John moving away from you, and your eyes fell to the new set of hands that had found their home near your waist. You turned, more than slightly annoyed at the interruption. The man who approached you smiled down at you, but you didn’t smile back.

“I’m sorry, but I was kind of dancing with someone else.” Your voice was hard, and the man frowned. His eyes flickered up to land on John, and he scoffed.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, as he released his hold on you and walked away.

When you turned back around, John was just standing in front of you, staring. The song had transformed into a slow song, and you moved forward to wrap your arms around his neck. You gave him a small smile as you pulled him closer, and a few seconds later, you felt his hands grip your sides.  

John still couldn’t believe it. He had been watching you turn down guys all night, but he hadn’t expected you to choose dancing with him over someone else.  

“What’s wrong?” He heard you ask, snapping him back out of his thoughts.

John lifted his eyes to meet yours, and his stomach flipped.

“You should be with someone more like that. Someone more your type.” He murmured.

“My type? Who says that guy was my type?”

There was a curious expression on your face now, and John could feel his cheeks heat with embarrassment.  

“I mean, tall, dark and handsome... isn’t that every girl’s type?”

You laughed, and even though he knew it was directed at him, it was still one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard.

“That guy was hardly my type. What if I said my type was more... someone like you?”

John swallowed hard, and he felt like his head was spinning. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol, your words, or the way that you were looking at him. It could have been a culmination of all three.

Two shots in and feeling brave, you decided that this was the moment. Slowly, you leaned forward, and when John didn’t move away, you gently brushed your lips against his. You felt him tense in your arms, but a fraction of a second later, he sighed and pressed his lips forcefully against yours.

The taste of alcohol stained both of your lips, but neither one of you cared. Your arms that were still wrapped around his neck pulled him even closer, and his hands were now placed securely on the small of your back, keeping your body flush against his. It was a kiss like neither one of you had ever experienced before. It was an acknowledgement of months of ignored feelings, all crammed into one simple gesture.

When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, attempting to catch your breath.

“This is crazy.” John breathed, a light laugh falling from his lips.

“Bad crazy?” You asked nervously.  

When you looked up, you met John’s green eyes, and he smiled.

“Absolutely not. The perfect kind of crazy.”

He hadn’t believed that it could happen, but then you kissed him again.