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Ridge Farm, August 1975.
“Anyone want a drink?” John asked, with a seemingly innocent smirk on his face.
It was a hot summer day and the poor AC system in the studio wasn’t really working the best. Roger’s shirt was unbuttoned pretty much the moment he had set foot in the recording room, Freddie had abandoned his shirt in a favor of a tank top a while ago, even Brian kept sneakily unbuttoning one button after another and desperately rolling his sleeves up.
“Oh would you be so kind, darling?” Freddie asked in a tone that you really couldn’t say no to. “We’ll be wrapping up on this one in a minute and then we’ll take a break, and some lemonade would really do us good.”
“Well, if you’re already offering…” Roger piped up, voice lightly raspy from all the singing he had already done today.
Recording background vocals wasn’t exactly easy, John knew that, especially not with Brian’s complex arrangements, but one could only spend so much time listening to three people crooning “ooohs” and “aaahs” into the microphone…and then having another five million takes of the same “ooohs” and “aaahs” for three days in a row. And one could get so bored with it, that some mischievous ideas were the almost an inevitable result. No bad intent in it, of course, just some harmless fun. At least for him.
“Need any help, Deacy?” Brian offered, always helpful.
“No, no, no, it’s fine, you just finish what you’re doing.” And let me prank you in peace, John’s mind finished his thought.
“You’re lovely, darling! Mwah!” Freddie’s cheerful voice bade him farewell as he made for the kitchen.
Chuckling, John stopped by his room to pick up his purchase from yesterday – a box of Viagra. Buying it wasn’t really the most pleasant thing ever, but if the polite lady from the small pharmacy would have thought that he had…performance issues, well, so be it. It was far from the truth, anyway, and the purchase would be worth it.
With a lopsided grin on his face, John entered the kitchen. Juicing the lemons wasn’t really the most entertaining activity ever, but John kept bursting into laughter every now and then. Damn his childish mind, but this was really a lot of fun.
Four glasses filled with lemonade now, John carefully popped three tablets out of the packaging, crushing them one by one between two spoons and dropping the fine powder into the glasses, then carefully stirring the mixture.
He heard steps coming, the unmistakable clogs, and hurried to hide the package in one of the cabinets. He could deal with that later.
“Hey John,” Brian appeared at the door. “Is everything okay? It’s taking you a bit so I…”
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” John interrupted him, giving one of the spiked lemonades one last stir. He then shot him an innocent smile. “I wasn’t sure if you needed any sugar, you know…”
“Yeah, one lump for me, and two for Freddie and Roger, I think. Or just take the sugar with you, they can add it on their own.”
The glasses and the sugar jar neatly arranged on a tray, Brian and John headed back to the recording room.
“Here you go. Freddie,” he carefully handed him one of the glasses, “Roger,” he went for the other, “nononono wait, Brian, that one is mine!” He almost yelled, his reaction completely surprising. Brian quickly put the glass down, raising his brow at John’s reaction. “I mean,” John chucked, smiling naively, “I already put some sugar in it and I know I like it like that.” He took the glass from the tray, taking a little sip, and smiling after the harsh bitterness that went down his throat. He hadn’t put a single grain of sugar in his lemonade. “Mmmh, yeah, I nailed this one.”
“Okay, John, that one’s yours then,” Brian raised his arms, obviously confused with John’s reaction, but still took the other glass, and put the sugar in it.
In the matter of minutes, all three glasses had already been chugged down. John took another sip of his bitter lemonade as the boys were getting back to recording after the short break.
---
Brian was the first one to start shuffling and moving from one leg to the other. “Could we maybe…uhh…nothing.”
“What is it, Bri?” Freddie asked.
“Nothing, it’s nothing, let’s just keep recording.” He crossed his legs as he stood, the position not at all natural or comfortable.
“Are you sure it’s nothing?” Freddie sounded just a bit worried.
Brian’s face was slowly turning red. “Yeah, no, I…it’s just really…hot, you know.” He unbuttoned the last three buttons from his shirt, visibly uncomfortable, and tied it around his hips, the sleeves now hanging over his crotch.
“You can leave your shirt on the chair, you know?” Roger said to him. He then shuffled slightly, fidgeting with the waist of his pants, pulling them upwards a bit.
“No, it’s…it’s fine, really, I’m okay with this. Can we get on with the recording, please?” His voice was just a hint strained.
On the sofa in the corner of the studio, John stifled his giggle.
“Maybe we could take a break, though.” Roger piped again. “Or maybe just take a break from the vocals, you know, and work on our own parts a bit.” He walked down to his drum kit. John took a glance at his behind, suppressing another giggle as he saw his buttocks all clenched.
“What’s the matter, darlings? Are you feeling okay?” Freddie’s voice was worried now.
“Yeah, I’ll just…head to the loo, okay?” Brian quickly exited the room, apologizing at the door, “I’ll be back in a minute!”
“Now, Freddie,” Roger sat on his drum stool, one leg folded under him instead of being on the pedal as usual, his hands over his crotch. “I wanted to ask you about something regarding this…uhh…”
“Roger are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m alright, I’m just so bloody horny out of nowhere, okay?” Roger almost cried out in frustration.
John burst out in laughter, doubling over on the sofa.
“John, what’s the matter with you!” Roger all but yelled. “Why are you…oh. Ooooh. You sly little bugger, you spiked the drinks, didn’t you! That’s why you did that stunt with the lemonade!”
John was now howling with laughter, Roger joining him and giving up on hiding his crotch with a visible bulge now showing.
“But then poor Brian also…” Freddie started, but he couldn’t end the sentence because another rowdy laugh came both from Roger and John and he couldn’t help himself but join them.
“And he’s still not back from the bathroom,” John started again, “he must be…”
Roger had calmed himself down for a second, but John’s sentence made him start howling with laughter again. Freddie was wiping his tears away, John was barely holding himself upright, clutching at his stomach as he laughed.
Once Brian returned from the toilet, the three of them had already tired from the continuous streams of laughter, all three giving just a couple of tired but sincere chuckles as Brian sat down.
“Enjoyed your wank?” Roger chuckled, teasing.
Brian’s face turned bright red. “I didn’t…”
“Oh stop it, we know you did. John spiked our drinks with something, I’m having the same problem,” Roger said with a lopsided smirk.
“But wait, why did he leave Freddie out then? He looks fine to me!” Brian pouted, his face still burning.
“I didn’t,” John admitted. “But he might be immune to the damn thing, or so it seems.”
“Oh, that’s a compliment, darling, but I don’t think I am.”
John blinked, looking back to his glass of lemonade, now almost empty. He felt the light straining in his crotch, then burst into laughter.