Pointless McSutcliffe

One Shot - Summertime

'Run away with me'

'Sod off, McCartney'

***

Nothing had quite been the same since John left.

The band fell apart, none of them felt like keeping it up if their main component wasn't there.

Pete disappeared, but then again he was already missing half the time anyways.

George's parents were forcing him to focus on his studies after all his failed exams, lad spent all day in school and all night studying at home.

Stu himself had taken to write to John, but he rarely answered back. The letters were few and far off in between art classes and running errands and selling portraits and all things that involved being an actual, functional adult.

He couldn't afford to play teddy boys anymore, not with bills to pay and commissions to finish and headaches that refused to go away. His bass had been left in a corner as a memento from better times that were now long gone.

But then there was Paul.

***

'C'mon, we could be a band on the run!'

'Thought I told ye to sod off!'

***

Paul had pretty much moved into Stu's (and John's) small flat, constantly taking up space in his paint splattered studio, nicking his cigarettes, playing his 45s, singing obnoxiously, being a general annoyance.

Stuart seriously wondered if Mr McCartney had kicked him out or something.

It's not that Paul brought his stuff along or even slept there, but it seemed like he spent his every free moment locked with him.

Sometimes Stu missed the times when Paul loathed him and would've rather died than spend more than five minutes out of stage with him.

But everything was different now.

***

'Don't you seriously have *anything* better to do?'

'...sometimes I get lonely. Sorry'

***

He got it, Paul missed John. All of them did, for fuck's sake.

But it felt, oddly, like Paul had picked Stu as his personal replacement. Which sounded bizarre but felt quite accurate to the situation.

John had had all the time of the world for Paul. If Paul wanted to jam out or write something or go out to kick fucking stones into the Mersey, John would drop everything and go with him.

Stu wasn't like that. He had things to do, lessons to attend, business to make. Couldn't cater to the whims of a spoiled kid who missed his best friend/paramour, no matter how much he begged.

So Paul just stayed. Stayed around whenever Stuart did things, sometimes butting in with an unwanted comment or unfinished song, but still letting him do his thing.

And Stu hated that he allowed him to do so, hated how fond of him he was growing.

***

'Stuart. Stuart. Stuart. Stu-'

'What?!'

'I'm sorry'

'What did you do now?'

'Nothin'... Just, I'm sorry. For everything before this'

'...alright'

***

Four months in, Paul started sleeping over. Six months in, he did brought his stuff along.