#old queen

[smashorpassgilf]

Danny LaRue

Danny LaRue

Smash

Pass

Voting ended onMay 21, 2025

[supportrat]

"Ey, somebody go tell Inferno we found somebody new for him to worship!"

[enlightening]

if someone’s music always gets me through hard times especially right now its all queen

[f-fader]

Day 7: Fancy

[weeguttersnipe]

There’s nothing more inconvenient than and old queen with a head cold.

Victor/Victoria (English, 1982)

[castleflowers]

THE COURT

She was very much loved. Tragic, what befell Her Majesty.

[lepetitdragonvert]

Contes de l’Ombre et de la Lumière, E. Granger. Librairie Hachette, Paris. .1922.

La princesse au pois

[patsdrabbles]

So Many Years (And Finally, I Believe)

Title: So Many Years (And Finally, I Believe)

Rating: PG

Pairing: Joger

Time Period: 2017-ish

Warnings: a teeny tiny bit of angst in the beginning, but with a happy ending

Disclaimer: I don't own Queen, and this is sadly fictional, for all I know

A/N: There's a lack of Joger fics, as well as a lack of old/present day Queen fics, so here's my attempt at changing that with my first ever Queen fanfic. Hope you enjoy it! ^_^ (AO3) & (LJ)

* * * *

It's not like Roger had been out, looking for  him. It had been long since he had last stopped by places - or walked by  slower - that he knew him to frequent ...or used to frequent. He had  soon realized that it was for naught, because if John was set on staying  hidden, he was likely not to be found, not even by one of his oldest  friends.

Brian had tried, too, a couple of times, had met John  once, but the word exchange had been over quickly, and John had been on  his way somewhere else. More often than not, Brian and Roger had simply  run into each other, exchanging a sad shrug. They missed him around, badly  so, but at some point... Brian had sighed and told Roger to let their  friend be, he'd let them know if he was ready to come back, talk to them  again.

It hadn't happened.

It hadn't happened for years,  and Roger's heart still clenched when his thoughts went back to John on  random occasions, maybe even more so than the times they'd be playing  one of his songs, and he and Brian shared a gaze filled with nostalgia,  and sometimes the slightest hint of tears appeared in Roger's eyes.

Of  course, he knew, he should be happy for John. He was alive and well,  from what he guessed. It was when his thoughts got to this point that he  started really tearing up, and Brian would come and give him a  comforting hug, because they were old, and Oh God, Brian, we lost half of what we used to be. Tears never made it go away, they just seemed to dampen the air, making it hard to breathe.

Sometimes  he dreamed they still were the band they used to be. The friends they  used to be. Some years he sends silly post cards to John's old address  on his birthday, but not every year, even though he always remembers.  Sometimes he feels like it's even worse than having lost Freddie. Losing  someone during their life time simply because their path split ways...  it feels almost more crushing some days.

It's, in all honesty, not  even like he thinks of him every day, or every week or so. He finds  himself even sadder when he realizes that, at some point, he had given  up on seeing John ever again. He feels ashamed for letting it come to  that. But the feeling that's dragging him down when he first gets to  that realization doesn't improve even when he tells himself that he had  never wanted it to happen.

He only manages to gasp when he runs into John in front of a supermarket in Rio.

They're  touring and he. He did not expect to see John. Not here, nor ever  again. Brian had talked him through that often enough by now. It's been  over two decades, but nevertheless, he'd recognize John anywhere, for  they've known each other so well for even longer.

There's panic  flashing up in John's eyes, and Roger finds himself stretching out his  arms, trying to grasp for him before he turns on his heels and leaves,  much like that one time Brian met him on a walk. But he drops his arms.  He can't tell why, but maybe it's the fear that he's just gotten so old  that he's hallucinating, or maybe... no, he won't even think of anything  worse that this could be. So, in the end, all that leaves his mouth is a  quiet "...Deaky?"

And he had seen it in John's eyes, that  surprising glint of sadness when he had dropped his stretched-out hand,  but his mind had been elsewhere.

"How did we let it come to this?" John asks equally quietly, intentionally not meeting his eyes. Roger huffs.

But  at the same time, he doesn't feel up for the fight. Or the long talk  that they might have if John would allow for it. Or his schedule. They  have a concert planned for tonight, and Roger isn't sure how he's going  to endure being on stage, when somewhere else in this town of millions,  there's John, finally, after so many years.

They stand there, in  front of the supermarket, quite awkward, honestly, and Roger knows that  he should be back at the hotel soon, Brian will be worrying, and Roger  still isn't that fond of smartphones, or rather, using them, and he  knows John is probably only there on vacation, or his son is sneaking to  one of their concerts again (he'd seen him, thinking about approaching  them in the hallway of the VIP area backstage one time, but the moment  their eyes met, and he himself must have looked so hopeful yet  devastated, the kid had only hastily stumbled away.)

So he sighs;  it feels like the same old story finally came full cycle, and here they  go again, and will it be another twenty years or other events that bring  them together to the same place again eventually, he doesn't dare  think, and so he makes sure he meets John's gaze before stepping closer,  and holds his friend in a tight embrace, whispering, hoarsely, the  slightest hint of tears forming in his eyes: "Come tonight. It's been  too long." and he lets go, and turns around, and he can't look back, not  now, not if this was the last time.

And that night, he'd love to  be able to say that he saw two familiar eyes shining in the mass of the  audience, but of course he can't, the concert hall is too big and too  crowded, and even though he'd love to be able to say that he felt John  was there, in the crowd for once, he knew John would not do that, no  matter if he cared, being too scared to be recognized and cornered.

But  Roger can say that he never felt as much relief flood through his veins  as the moment he spots him, looking quite lost, as always, in front of  the dressing room post-concert, and then he's already rushing toward  him, and behind him, Brian lets out a clearly shaken "Deaky", and he  doesn't mind when his hug becomes a three-person hug, all kinds of messy  (and also sweaty, but heck, they just played a concert, and they used  to be like this for so long back then, too, really none of them minds,  not even John, who hasn’t been on a stage for oh so many years) and  Roger lets a laugh that seemed to have gotten stuck in his throat out,  raspy because he is exhausted from the show, because he is old, and  because he remembers that one time Freddie told him to believe in  miracles, because "they do come true, Rog, darling, you just have to  believe in them", and he knows that they'll be fine.

He has no  expectations or misconceptions about John's being here, doesn't see him  wanting to get back into the band, and he knows it because he knows John,  but this is enough, and he lets a heartfelt, heart-wrenched "I missed  you" past his dry lips, and John looks up at him, still half held by  Roger, half by Brian, and holding on to the both of them, and he says,  honesty radiating from his words: "I missed you, too."

Later,  he tells Roger as they sit next to each other on the hotel couch, long  after Brian left, unwilling but tiredly, moaning about his back aching a  bit even though he was exercising, "I always got your cards. I should  have told you thank you before you apparently moved." and Roger is about  to reply to him, say that it's alright since he is right here, right  now, in the right place and time for once, but John pulls out a birthday  card that already looks so much like those he'd use to send him when  they were younger, and Roger freezes.

"I always kept this one  around when travelling, just... in case." He nods to tell Roger to just  take it and open it already, and Roger can't do this, but in  the end, he does, and it just says "I'm sorry. Happy birthday x  IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII", each I in a different ball-point pen's trace and  colour, marking a year gone by, and John is staring at the floor, and  Roger is not having any of this. "We can talk tomorrow, but will you  maybe just sleep next to me tonight?" and John looks up at him in  surprise, his cheeks still colouring quickly, and he moves his hand up,  as if to brush aside his hair the way he did when it was longer, and  Roger doesn't think he's ever seen a more adorable-looking 66-year old  like him and nods. "If you want to. But I would much appreciate it." And  John looks both sad and happy, and there's a smile tugging on his lips  when Roger beams at him, and he's laughing when Roger tosses a pair or  pyjama bottoms at him and just exclaims - grinning at John's critical  gaze and raised eyebrow - "You know that you should wear them even if  they do not fit- it's not like it ever made any of us stop sharing  clothes, after all". And maybe, he thought, lying next to a dozed off  John many an hour later, this was where they would - fitting to their  lives now or not, did that really matter? he responded to himself with a  clear 'no' - start sharing memories again.