Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy (JoeMazzello!JohnDeacon fanfic)

forty two

Waking up the following morning, the first thing Roxanne realises is that it's her birthday. The second thing is that this bed that she's in, is so cold and uncomfortable.

She has to mention that to her mum and dad.

Groaning, she pulls the blankets over her head just as there's a knock at the door, "Rox?"

"What?"

"Your mum told me to give you a knock," John's voice is somewhat muffled by the door, "She says you've got fifteen minutes before she puts all the breakfast things away."

"Is that the time?" Roxanne cries, practically falling out of the bed so she can unlock the door to her room, pulling it open and John's standing there in one of his adorable sweater vests, while she's in one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts that she's pretty sure belong to Brian because they come way past her knees. Trousers would possibly be a better word for them.

Breakfast ended at ten-thirty. After living here for so long, you'd think that Roxanne would know this but this was her first Saturday off in what felt like forever and all she'd wanted to do, was have a long lie.

Now if she didn't go downstairs, she wouldn't get breakfast. 

John smiles down at her, reaching out a hand to flatten that one section of her hair that always ends up at an odd angle before he's leaning down to kiss her cheek, "Happy birthday, darling."

"'m old," she grunts, resting her forehead against his chest, "So old."

"You're twenty two," he rubs her arms. 

"If we're still together when we're twenty five will you let me have a breakdown?"

"Yes," he agrees, "The two of us can have a quarter life crisis together."

Resting her forehead against his chest, hiding her face so he can't see how his words make her smile. 

Does he think that they'll still be together when they're twenty-five? She hopes so. She can definitely see him in her future. 

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, John rubs her arms, "You've got five minutes to get dressed now." 

"Shit!" 

++|++

She makes it downstairs in time to grab a couple slices of toast and a bowl of fruit before the staff take away everything and she makes herself and John a cup of coffee before she joins the rest of them in the sitting room. 

"What are the pair of you doing today?" her mum asks, placing her own mug of coffee down on the table. 

"We're thinking about going to Glasgow," Roxy tells her, "John's never been." 

"I want to see some of Mackintosh's buildings," John nods, "His buildings are known worldwide. Maybe go to the Mitchell Library too if that's alright." 

Roxanne smiles and nods. She herself hasn't been to see any of those buildings and hey, she likes a book. 

"You should go see the Necropolis," Greg suggests and his wife tuts. 

"They don't want to go wandering through a graveyard. Honestly, Greg. How morbid can you get?" 

"It was just a suggestion, Cathy." her dad mumbles and Roxanne shares a glance with John. 

"Anyway," her mum clasps her hands together, "How's Roger?" 

"He's good," Roxy nods, not missing the eyeroll from her dad. 

"And the band?" the question is directed toward John and he gives the woman a smile. 

"We're good. In a good place at the moment."

"A good place," Roxy repeats, "John, you're in an amazing place!" She looks at her parents, "Queen are going to be releasing an album." 

"An album?" Cathy's eyes light up and her dad seems a lot more interested, "How exciting!" 

John nods again, shifting uncomfortably in his seat when everyone's attention is suddenly on him though when Roxy rests her hand on his thigh, he relaxes. 

"How could you afford it?" 

"Greg!" 

"They do all work, dad," Roxanne says at the same time her mum glares at him. 

"They gave us a pretty good deal as well," John informs, "If we recorded at night, then they gave us a huge chunk off." 

Cathy leans over when John tells Greg more about their recording process, "A rock star boyfriend...that's not bad." 

++|++

The pair of them spend the whole day walking about the city and Roxanne doesn't know how many photos John takes of her. 

They're stood in Rennie Mackintosh's The Lighthouse, at the bottom of the impressive spiral which they are going to climb up in a couple of minutes and John has just taken another photograph of her staring up the centre of it and when the flash goes off, he gives her an innocent shrug. 

"Do you really need all of those pictures?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," he nods, kissing her cheek as he passes by, "Now, shall we?" 

She reluctantly nods (she's going to be an absolute mess when they finally reach the top) and follows him up the narrow staircase and she covers the lens with her hand when he tries to take another photo of her. 

Reaching the top is a welcome relief and when they open the door out onto the viewing platform, she leans against the wall to catch her breath. 

"Jesus," John laughs as he snaps a couple of photos of the skyline, "You alright?"

"This must be how Roger feels when he's climbed the stairs at my bit." she pants, reaching for the camera, "You've taken so many of me today, it's my turn." 

She takes a few of him then takes a couple of what hopefully will be artistic shots of the graffiti that's been painted on the surrounding walls. 

"You've never been here?" John asks as they descend back down the stairs; their next stop is going to be The Glasgow Necropolis and he raises an eyebrow as she shakes her head, "Really?" 

"Really." 

After a quick stop at the gift shop, where John buys her a cute little Mackintosh Rose necklace, which he helps her put on almost immediately after they leave the small shop.

The air is bitterly cold as they walk and John wraps his arm around her shoulders as they make their way to the famous cemetery. 

"Tonight," Roxanne mumbles, "If you wanted to of course, you could always sneak into my room..." 

"No," John shakes his head immediately, "Not a chance, Roxanne. I'd rather your dad still like me at the end of this trip." 

"He loves you," she pouts, "And the room was so cold last night..." 

"Then put the radiator on." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the pout off of her lips, "Sorry love, it's not going to happen." 

Hm, she thinks, we'll see.