Chapter Text
He’s forgotten how beautiful the Italian Alps are. He hasn’t been here ever since skiing here once in the eighties with Roger’s family and his own. The air is crystal clear, and the sunlight feels like it’s kissing his skin all over, and his eyes are drinking in the sight of the vast mountain range.
God knows he desperately needs a vacation. The past few years were emotionally draining and rewarding as well; deaths and birth, friendships evaporating and forming, high and low points of a life most people only hopelessly dream about. He’s had his fair share of fame and family, breakdowns and ecstasy and even more, and he’s forever grateful for all that.
But he's really needed to get out of the country. He loves his family dearly, but he has to confess he’s missed traveling the world, and he’ll never stop missing the thrill of a new landscape every day, the pulsating of a different city each night, the feel of the wind in his hair-
“John! I haven’t seen you in ages, you bastard!”
John feels a warm smile spread across his face as arms are hugging him and hands are patting his shoulders. The embrace of his childhood friend. He closes his eyes as they are tapping each other’s back.
“How long has it been? Eight years?” He asks as Joseph leads him into the living room.
He looks around admiringly.
The Mazzello’s have such a fancy weekend house here, big enough to host two or even three families. They used to hang out together here every summer for a few years, ever since Robert was a year old or two, watching each other’s families bloom and grow.
“Something like that,” Joseph says. “I could forgive you for not giving a crap about me, but you haven’t seen my kids for a while, and that’s a scandal! You should see how big they’ve gotten. Of course, I know how busy you’ve been-”
Joseph is obviously just joking, or more like half-joking, but John still feels a little bit guilty.
They have been friends since elementary school - pen pals at first, as it was really common around that time. John wanted to learn Italian and found Joseph through an organization, and the two became fast friends, wrote to each other in both languages, traded postcards, stickers, guitar picks, and eventually, Joseph’s parents invited John to their house in Milan for a week or two.
John smiles. His mother only let him go under the condition he took his sister, Julie with him. In the end, John’s whole family went, and the boys spent a few awesome weeks together after finally meeting in person.
It was not unlike how they are spending the summers together nowadays with their own children.
Of course, some things have changed. After-
They engage in comfortable talking as they sipping some juice, and they talk about fame and exhaustion and business, they talk about the past and the future, they talk about friends and life and death and family, music and dancing and engineering, and John feels like coming home to a childhood place.
He missed his friend so much, his old friend who doesn’t remind him of what he’s left behind, the friend who’s more stable than the foundations of the Earth. The one who’s so different from his adopted brothers, who’s been in his life for decades, even if not always in person. An oasis in the madness of the rock world.
“What about the children?”
“Oh, they’re all grown up, you should see them. Mary is considering going to law school, but I think it’s going to bore her brains out. But if that’s what she wants… She’s really good at playing the piano as well; she adores Liszt. John is a typical teenager, doing good, he and Joe adore baseball for whatever reason…” John laughs as Joseph grimaces a bit. His friend always had a less traditional side, John would even call it feminine. He hates sports besides dancing. “They are all so beautiful, I’m incredibly proud of them, even if they are a pain in the ass sometimes.”
John chuckles. “I’m sure they are amazing. John must be, after all, he got his name after me, right?”
“Ah, you remember!” Joseph laughs warmly at him, patting his shoulder.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been that honored in my life,” John smiles back. ”And what about Joe? I saw him in that dinosaur movie but we haven’t been communicating much since besides exchanging some letters. He was really cute in the film though.”
“He did really good,” Joseph says, leaning back against the couch with a tender smile. “But it’s a hard life, you know. I had to make sure we could all spend enough time with him while filming, as a family. I wanted him to actually go on with his studies so he hasn’t been doing much acting lately. But he misses it, he’s always complaining and wants to do more, monologuing about how much he misses acting... He’s the biggest pain in the ass out of the three of them, really.”
John chuckles. “I wish I could have seen him, or all of you for that matter. But you know how things have been...”
“I know.” Joseph's voice is gentle and understanding. “And how are your two youngest? I haven’t met them yet, I’d really like to see them.”
“Oh, they are coming in a few days with Veronica. Luke was sick with this ear infection, and they are waiting until he gets better.”
“Can’t wait. I-”
There's a sudden slam of the front door, and John and Joseph both look in the direction of the noise.
“Hi, Dad!”
Flaming red hair, long limbs, a swish of green and brown colours in a pair of eyes, smell of sweat.
That’s the first impression he has, and a young guy is hurrying to them, wiping his face with the bottom of the t-shirt he’s wearing. He stops, staring down at John, his lips parting slowly.
John takes a good look at him too before holding out his hand encouragingly. “Hello.”
“Hey,” the boy says finally, smiling at him and shaking his hand. “Is that you, John? Sorry for staring. I knew you were coming but it's still surprising to see you in person, haven’t met you in a while.”
John suddenly remembers to close his mouth too as he stands up, smiling. “Hello, Joe. My, you’ve grown.”
Joe grins at him before pulling him into a tight embrace, warming up, and John briefly thinks that the straightaway Italian genes sure run strong in this family.
“You wouldn’t be this surprised if you bothered to take a peek at your godson in the past few years,” Joe says cheekily, and John is a little embarrassed.
“You’re absolutely right, and I’m-”
“It’s okay, I got all your letters. Sorry for answering them less frequently, you know, shooting and everything happened and sometimes I was so busy-”
“No need to apologize, I can imagine. I was kind of busy, too.” John is still looking at Joe who’s sweating, drops dripping off his hair. He looks like he’s been running.
John might have not met him for a few years but they kept in touch, and he really enjoyed Joe’s little ramblings about school and childhood crushes and the shooting and his family life, even if they became less regular by time. Joe has turned into a teenager and he must have had his own stuff going on, more important than sending letters to his godfather.
“I really would like to catch up with you about how you’ve been.”
“I’d be glad,” Joe smiles, showing his teeth that don’t look as huge in his mouth as they used to. “Now excuse me please, I'm sweating like a pig. I‘ve been biking up to these damn hills from the bus station. That's five miles, man! Almost twenty kilometers.” Joe apparently has no idea how much a mile is in normal people units, and John smirks as Joe kisses his dad on the cheek. “Love ya, Dad!”
John watches as Joe opens the glass door and sprints towards the lake, peeling his shirt off in the meantime before jumping into the water with a loud yell.
Wow.
John blinks once and kids are suddenly grown up.
“He’s grown a lot,” he says, turning towards Joseph, who still looks tenderly at his son.
“Yes. He’s taken up all these team sports, baseball and basketball, things that kids his age like. It does him good to be in school. Sometimes I think all this acting was too much for him, that he wouldn’t be able to have a normal life or that it would be too stressful. But he adores it and he seems happy, and that’s the only thing that matters.”
John gets it.
“I thought he wouldn’t be here because of a... summer camp thing?”
“Yes, he was supposed to attend one in Milan, with acting workshops and lessons about cinematic techniques, but he got bored with it after two days.” Joseph shakes his head, grimacing painfully. “He said it was ‘lame’. Lame! I don’t think he realizes how good he has it. He’s gotten a bit impulsive, you know... So he just ran away and called me about two hours ago from the bus station. He doesn’t give up until he gets what he wants, or gets rid of what he doesn’t want.”
“Oh I know, I used to deal with teenage sons. And there are two more yet to grow up!”
They both laugh. “Our Y chromosomes are quite strong, am I right?”
“Tell me about it. At least mine are scattered in time.”
“You’re really ‘prolific’, right? I’ve seen that interview too.” Joseph winks at him. ”Now, want to get a drink or two until Virginia comes back?”
John would never deny booze.
He’s still smiling as he casts a glance in Joe’s direction, who’s happily playing in the water.
The dinner is awesome, the whole of Joseph's family is there. Out of the three loud teenagers Joe is the loudest by far and the most flamboyant. He talks a lot and acts out little roles as he's mimicking his teacher, and another boy from his class whom he seems to hate (“he's too much like me, maybe that's why,” Joe adds).
“Joey, how come you left the camp?” Mary asks, and Joe grimaces.
“I swear, if I have to answer that question one more time…”
“Well, you haven't told me yet, next time don't forget to send the memo, okay?”
Joe looks at the ceiling. “Fair enough. So, it was super lame, we had to recite stupid King Lear, and if I don’t get to play the lead role then what‘s the point? Anyway, English plays are almost always depressing and sucky — sorry, John —, and I wanna do something less tragic now-”
“Wow, you are spoiled!”
“- and then to add insult to injury they made me sing a part in Grease, but have you ever tried singing with my voice? One second it screams and the next second it growls, you just can’t trust it...”
The conversation continues like that, and John feels relaxed and entertained like he hasn't been in a long time, even though he really misses Ronnie and the kids. Only a few more days…
“I think Joe leaving the camp early had to do with him wanting to see John again, right?” Virginia adds with a wink, and John just blinks at her. “Right, Joe? You wanted to see your godfather after… how many years?”
“Eight.”
“Eight.”
John and Joe say it together and they both chuckle.
“Maaaybe it had,” Joe says, and he puts his fork down. “Speaking of, I have this physics project for school which is super useless since I'm never gonna use it in my life ever again, but maybe John can help me with it?”
“Sure thing,” John smiles as Joe stands up, sipping the rest of his wine.
“Well, are you coming?”
“Joe, cut him some slack, it's late.” Joseph smiles at his son, shaking his head.
“No, it's okay.” John stands up. ”I really want to talk anyway.”
“Cool, thanks for the dinner,” Joe says to his mom, kissing her cheek.
“Who’s going to do the dishes? Don’t leave everything to Mum!” Mary acts all annoyed, but Joe just rolls his eyes.
“I swear I’m going to do them one of these days, sis,” he says, “but for now let me bond with my goddad.”
Joe ignores Mary sulking as he leaves, and John casts an apologetic glance in the girl’s direction, following Joe up to his room.
“So basically I had this thought of putting a clock together out of hard drive parts and make the clockwork myself…”
“More like a cockwork,” Joe mutters, leaning above the gutted hard drive. “Cockwork Orange.”
“Have you read it?” John chuckles, and Joe looks at him questioningly. “The book.”
“I saw the movie. It's so damn sick, man,” Joe says, awkwardly fumbling with the soldering iron. “Fuck, I'm too clumsy for this.”
“Here,” John says, placing his hands over Joe's to guide him, slowly melting the tin. Joe pays attention carefully, leaning a bit against John's chest like he used to when he was little. “You have to hold the iron a bit farther from the tin. That movie is indeed very sick, as well as the original novel. It’s one of my favourites, actually, but you shouldn't have seen it, it's rated X.”
“Pleeease don't tell my mom!” Joe looks at him with playfully wide eyes, and John laughs. “‘A filthy, dirty old drunkie, howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blerp, blerp in between as it might be a filthy old orchestra in his stinking rotten guts.’”
Joe cites the quote with a quite accurate Yorkshire accent, and John is impressed.
“You know it by heart? Did you study accents as well?”
“Yeah, some. ‘I’ll stick to the bass’, ” Joe says in John’s accent, and John laughs, slowly shaking his head.
“Amazing. And what is the sickest movie you've ever seen?”
“Besides porn?” John raises an eyebrow, and Joe raises an eyebrow too. Sassy. “Which I, of course, can't say anything about since I'm obviously too young to have ever watched one, so I would say maybe Pulp Fiction-”
“-which is also rated X by the way,” John adds.
“Oh, don’t dad me. I liked it a whole lot, the niche conversations about hamburgers made me lose it in the first five minutes. It's such a genius solution. It connects the audience to your movie by making you feel you’re a part of a conversation you’d have with your friends. Really postmodern.”
“You learned film theory too I guess? Do you want to continue filming?”
“Ah, this is lame!” Joe exclaims as he accidentally melts two cogwheels together. He gives up, throwing the soldering iron aside. “Okay, thanks for helping, but let's continue another day, okay?”
He rubs his eyes and John smiles.
“It doesn't hurt to learn these things. It's useful to be able to fix things around the house without always calling a professional. And the ladies dig that.”
Joe rolls his eyes but smiles at him.
“Yes, sir, Mr Engineer. So, to answer your question: yes, I love acting and I can't imagine ever doing anything else. It’s fun, you can meet people you could only dream about before. I also hope I will be known for something more besides being the ‘dino boy’.”
“I'm sure you will be,” John says as Joe sits on the bed with his lanky legs all over the place and pats the blanket next to him for John to sit.
It’s comforting. John was a bit worried that they wouldn’t get along - after all, Joe is twice the age he was the last time they met, and kids sure change fast. But they got attuned to each other quite quickly. Joe asks him about how he’s been doing, getting really enthusiastic to see Luke and Cam whom he hasn't met yet.
He also asks about the olden days.
“How does it feel to perform in front of thousands? I don't do stage often and usually, there are only a few key people around when we’re shooting, so I still get stage fright sometimes.“
“Oh, believe me, I never got completely used to it. But I more or less loosened up after a while, I mean about ten minutes into the concert or so. It got better by the eighties, and Freddie or Rog always encouraged me before a gig.
Joe’s eyes are twinkling, his mouth hanging open as he’s listening to his stories.
“And how are you now that you don't tour with Queen anymore? Are you keeping in touch with the rest of the guys?”
John smiles sadly.
“Not too much. They are continuing the band but I didn't really feel like it then, and I still don't. But if Brian and Rog are into it, I'm not stopping them having fun.”
Joe looks aside for a minute before talking again.
“I miss some of my friends. You know how acting is - it’s like, in the end, I have to be separated from everyone I form a connection with. Living away from home, sometimes for months, doesn't really strengthen the bond with the existing friends, and making new ones who might be from a different continent and will eventually return home is hard. I’m glad my family comes with me for shootings.”
“I understand. I think you really have to make a conscious effort to keep friendships up, and it’s not easy at all when meeting in person is impossible. I should have done the same with the boys but… I just couldn’t.”
He doesn’t know why he tells Joe that, but the boy just hums seriously.
“Are they mad at you?”
“No. Well, Roger is, I think. But no, I don’t know. They’d probably take me back if I asked. But it’s not the same without-”
He doesn’t go on. Joe opens his mouth but then closes it like he wanted to ask something but changed his mind. Probably it was about Freddie. But Joe is smart, he understands that Freddie is a sensitive topic still, and John is grateful for that.
“Are you still playing bass or anything? I used to tap around a bit but I don't really have the time and energy nowadays.”
“I doubt you lack the energy,” John laughs, “but time indeed is a difficult factor. Are you playing that one?”
He points at the picture of a guitar on the wall, a red electric Ibanez.
“That? No, that just looks good so I took a pic of it, it's a friend’s! I have a Cort at home, not a bass, but a rhythm guitar.”
“I brought a Fender with me,” John says. “I never know when I might get the inspiration.”
“Ooo,” Joe's eyes widen, and for a second, he really really looks like an over-enthusiastic fanboy. John wants to ruffle his hair, but decides that Joe is probably too old for that now. “You have to play it at the campfire one night, it would be super awesome. I'll tell everyone when I go back to school who my friggin godfather is… Well nobody will believe me but that doesn't matter ‘cause I know the truth.”
“I'm honored,” John laughs. “But I'm also proud of your achievements. I saw you in a few movies. I have to admit, I got teary at Radio Flyer.”
“Oh man, me too. Professional requirement.”
“Yes? So can you cry whenever needed?”
“Basically, yeah. I just have to get into the mood for a minute and boom.”
“Wow.”
Joe smiles at him before poking him in the shoulder.
“It’s good to see you. Next time, please don't disappear for years again.”
“I'll try. But you will be on a different continent.”
“Thank God for the internet, though. Or the post office for old guys like you,” Joe winks before yawning sleepily, leaning on John's shoulder, and John lays his head on his. They stay like that for a few seconds, then Joe throws himself on the bed, and John stands up to say goodnight.
“Wanna go swimming in the morning?” Joe asks. “The colours are amazing on the lake when the sun has just risen.”
“Sure, can't wait to chill a bit. Ronnie and the kids will be here soon and that will be the end of relaxation.”
Joe grins. “Awesome. Night then!”
That night, John falls asleep smiling.