Chapter Text
Bliss. This was absolute bliss. Lying back on a sofa of clouds, his husband's hands combing through his hair, slowly, sweetly, having all the time in the world. Cats roaming about, in and out of his lap. Freddie couldn't think of anything he'd rather be doing at the moment.
It was quiet. Peaceful. The Afterlife was like that. It was much like those paintings of heaven, serene and breathtaking, though there had been no blinding gates or flying angels. No, this was much better, Freddie decided as an unnamed cat climbed into is arms.
For some reason people seemed to like to dedicate their cats' souls to Freddie. Not that he minded, he loved taking care of them and thought it was very sweet that he and Jim got to look after the souls of all these people's cats.
Freddie was broken from his daze as he heard Jim's voice speak up softly.
"Fred."
"Yes, darling?" Freddie looked up at his husband with loving eyes. Beautiful, he thought. Forever immortalized almost exactly the way he remembered him, only slightly older. It had taken nearly 20 years for the two to reunite. Would it have been lovely to grow old together? Yes, but now they had forever and Freddie was so grateful. He pressed a kiss up to his jaw, and Jim smiled softly.
"Are we going to watch today?"
"Hmm," Freddie murmured, more interested in pressing another kiss to his husband's jaw. "I have absolutely no idea what day it is. Would you remind me, love?"
"It's February 24th," Jim said with eyebrows raised. Oh.
Freddie sat up and the unnamed cat crawled out of his lap. He knew exactly what day it was. Still.
"Oh, is it? Is it dear Tiffany's birthday? No, no, that can't be it. Is it the anniversary of that time you said I couldn't pull off glittery tights and I did?" Freddie asked with dramatized feigned ignorance.
"It's the day of the Oscars, Fred," Jim said, knowing full well that Freddie knew exactly what was happening today.
"I know," Freddie admitted dejectedly.
"So?"
Freddie bit his lip. He tried mostly to stay out of mortal matters, especially those which concerned him, but of course he had to see the movie about his own life. Bohemian Rhapsody, it was called, named after one of his greatest masterpieces. He absolutely loved it. Yes, it had its flaws, a bit inaccurate (He laughed when his poor Jim was made a waiter) but overall a fun time. It transported him back in the moment. And the actor that played him, this Rami Malek— Freddie practically fell in love with him. Needless to say, Freddie was ecstatic when he found out it had been nominated for five Oscars, including best picture.
“Look, I know you've been approaching the whole thing warily—” It was true. Freddie had heard what the critics had to say about the movie, and was scared to find truth in some of their statements. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn’t help but take a bit of personal offense. And of course there was the whole thing with the director, and quite frankly, Freddie understood why Mary and Deaky had chosen to stay away from this complicated mess.
"But you loved it! And I know for a fact you are dying to see what happens tonight,” Jim finished. Freddie gave a small sigh and nodded, smiling. Jim leaned in to kiss his forehead which was followed by Freddie capturing his lips in a slow, sweet kiss, which was only broken apart when Miko jumped in between the two men. Jim chuckled beside him and with a wave of his hand, Freddie parted an opening in the clouds. A view into the mortal world where the Oscars was just starting.
—
“Darling, did Rami win yet?” Freddie asked like a petulant child, stroking Delilah's fur as she laid sleepily in his lap. As a former rockstar, awards shows weren't really his thing, and he couldn't imagine how Brian and Roger must have felt, sitting still through the entirety of it.
“Not yet love, they're announcing that next,” Jim explained patiently, petting Dorothy in his arms.
“Jim?”
“Yes, Freddie?”
“Rami is going to win, right?”
“I hope so, Fred.”
Freddie leaned down to give Delilah a kiss before setting her down and pacing the air, nervous for the actor, for his movie. Cats nuzzled at his feet comfortingly. Soon after he heard a woman’s voice.
“And the nominees are—Bradley Cooper, A Star is Born—” Freddie gasped, taking a seat next to Jim. It was time.
“—Rami Malek, Bohemian Rhapsody—” Freddie and Jim cheered as they saw Rami, looking as dashing as ever, sitting with the rest of the cast and Brian and Roger, who were also all cheering him on. Freddie snorted at Brian's gray poodle hair, despite having seen it about 300 times already. It was strange to see his band mates so old, but it also filled him with an aching longing to see them again.
“And the Oscar goes to—” Freddie grasped Jim's hand, breath hitching. “Rami Malek, Bohemian Rhapsody!”
Freddie jumped up and hollered as Jim cheered excitedly. Their boy did it! Freddie felt beyond proud, toothy grin on his face, clapping enthusiastically as he heard his treasured song playing. He sang along loudly. It always felt so good to sing again, especially after a long spell of quiet. He smiled fondly when Brian pulled the 37 year old into a hug and Roger gave him a pat on the back.
“Look, Romeo! He won!” Freddie picked up the small cat, bouncing him like a baby. “Our darling Rami won! Oh shh, shh, he's talking.”
“Wow.” Rami looked dazed, mouth opening and closing in an attempt to form words. Freddie smiled lovingly, eyes filled with excitement as he turned to Jim who was grinning from ear to ear.
Rami thanked his cast mates and everyone involved in production and gave special thanks to his girlfriend, the beautiful young actress, Lucy Boynton. (“Look how cute they are,” Freddie cooed.)
“Thank you Queen, once more for allowing us this opportunity to tell your story, for inspiring generations.” Freddie hummed happily. “Thank you for— for playing to us misfits in the back. Thank you Brian May, Roger Taylor, and even you John Deacon—” Freddie’s heart jumped at hearing the bassist’s name. He knew that now his Deaky liked to spend his time away from the spotlight, in his own quiet haven much like Freddie's own, but he was so happy to hear Rami thank him in front of so many people. They seemed to forget that without John, Queen wouldn't have been Queen.
“Thank you all so much for making Queen possible,” Rami said to which Freddie and Jim hooted. "And of course, thank you Freddie Mercury for blessing me with the opportunity to tell your story.”
Freddie’s grin grew infinitely wider. “It's about time darling!” he jokingly stated as Jim snorted.
“Thank you for letting me honor the luscious, divine creature you are—”(Freddie howled at that.) “I love you! This is for you, darling!" Rami blew a kiss, and Freddie almost exploded with love.
“I love you too darling!” He blew a loud kiss back, knowing Rami couldn't hear him anyway. Freddie gave his husband a peck on the cheek before leaning down to play with Dorothy, who was still in the Irishman’s arms.
“There's one more thing I'd like to do. But I'm going to need a little help from the audience." Freddie looked back through the clouds, eyebrows raised.
"Now, I'm no Freddie Mercury when it comes to singing, but if you could please bear with me.” Freddie's breath hitched. Was Rami going to—
And there it was— a clear, and unmistakable “ay-oh.” Jim stilled beside him.
It was the most beautiful thing when Freddie heard the audience echo back with as much enthusiasm as Rami had. A lump formed in his throat and he looked over at his husband who also looked deeply touched. When their eyes met, Jim knew what Freddie wanted to do and just nodded.
—
Freddie didn't like being a ghost much. It wasn't near as much fun as he thought it was going to be while he was still living. Freddie's soul was a restless ball of energy— manifesting itself in yellow— accumulating into a physical appearance only when he stilled. He usually didn’t visit the mortal world, but today was special.
His soul zipped through the audience, straight up to the stage where Rami was gaining more confidence as he continued the game with the audience, movements exactly like Freddie's. The singer studied him with admiration, as his soul shimmered into a physical form. It was like looking at a mirror image.
Freddie played along, moving insync with Rami, who had his fist in the air, holding out the longest “ay-oh.” Freddie noticed a few tears had rolled down the actor's cheek and he followed his gaze to where he was staring at his table. His cast mates were playing along with chaotic enthusiasm and—
Oh.
Brian was wiping tears from his face, while Roger had his hand clasped over his mouth, looking like the tears were just about to spill over.
Seeing his bandmates so emotional made Freddie even more emotional. If only John were here too, to share this moment. Freddie wondered if he was at home getting misty eyed too. The thought of that alone made Freddie’s heart ache even more.
Though he had no physical tears, Freddie knew he was crying.
Freddie put a hand on Rami's shoulder as the man let a few more tears spill from his eyes.
“Thank you, Rami,” he whispered. For a moment, Freddie thought Rami had heard them, but those thoughts were quickly dispelled when the younger man let out a last,
“All right!”
Freddie looked out at the audience as they echoed the words with vigor. These were not Queen fans at a concert, most hadn’t known Freddie in life, yet here they were participating in this wonderful tribute.
“Yes, lovely, very lovely,” he murmured, eyes glistening. He cast one last grateful look at Rami, and his yellow soul zipped back to the Afterlife, like a star winking out of existence, where he would wait many years to thank the extraordinary man that was Rami Malek, face to face.