For Tomorrow - McLennon AU

7.

5th November, 1955

"John, c'mon! If you want to visit Paul before band practice then you'll get up right now." Mimi called, groaning when he didn't respond.

She grabbed a pillow from the bottom of the bed, throwing it at his face.

"Get up, John Lennon!" She glanced at his clock. "I'm gonna be late."

"Fine, fine... Calm down Elizabeth!" He called back throwing the covers off of himself. Mimi scowled at him, turning and leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

John stood up, running a hand through his hair. After picking out his clothes that he would be wearing for the day, he remembered that he had told Paul he'd lend him some clothes to wear.

Rummaging through his wardrobe, he soon found the perfect outfit. It was a white t-shirt and some baggyish grey Jeans, as well as a belt.

"John Winston Lennon if I do not hear that shower turn on in the next minute, I am dragging you out of the house in your sodding pyjamas!" An angry Mimi yelled from the bottom of the staircase.

"Alright!" He yelled back in annoyance, before groaning to himself.

He shoved the clothes on his bed, making a mental note to remember to pick them up after the shower.

-

Mimi pushed the doors open to the ward Paul was on in a fierce and stressed out motion.

"Go on, John. You've got a few minutes before you have to set off." With a nod, he just left her alone.

He knew the reason that she was stressed out is because she was trying to renovate the spare room to fit Paul in, and that same morning the company which was supposed to be delivering Paul's bed on Sunday morning had cancelled. Paul was due out of hospital on Sunday, but had to be on mostly bed rest, and without a bed that was going to be hard.

John walked into Paul's room, the first thing he heard being the sound of Jazz music filling his ears.

"You don't like this shite do you?" John laughed, closing the door behind him.

"I mean... A little? I'm not sure, I've never really sat and listened to ol- to jazz music."

"Aye, there's a reason for that." John joked.

"What music are you into?" Paul asked, slowly sitting up, looking straight at John as the other boy pulled up a chair.

"I'm into rock 'n roll, baby." He said with a lousy attempt at an American accent, happy when he saw Paul's face light up.

"No way? Me too. But there's not a lot of it where I'm from." He sort of sighed.

"Hm, and where are you from? Maybe I should have a go at them for it."

"Oh, somewhere remote. Near... Manchester."

"Your a Manc then?" John asked.

He sounds like he's from 'round here.

But his name wasn't in the phone book, so that would make sense.

"I just used to live there. Liverpudlian in blood." He sort of smiled. John nodded at that.

"They not listen to the art that is rock 'n roll down there, then?"

"Not really. People sort of... Stopped listenin' to it after a while. It was popular at one point, but sadly, that didn't last." Paul spoke, swallowing thickly and looking away from John. "Anyway. Who're your favourite rockstars?"

"Top 3?"

"Yeah."

"One is Elvis, of course..."

"Aye." Paul spoke, smiling what John could only describe as a gorgeous smile.

"Chuck Berry and... Little Richard." John counted on his fingers. "How about you?"

"Buddy Holly..."

"Yeah." John grinned, excited at the topic.

"Little Richard too, and how can you not love Elvis? He is the God of rock 'n roll."

"Aye he certainly is." John agreed. "Hey, if you like Elvis so much, then you're gonna love the clothes I got you."

"What?" Paul asked, looking down to the clothes in John's lap. He laughed slightly when he saw the leather jacket lay over his legs. "Is that yours?"

"Yeah, whipped it off my door as I was on my way out. I thought you'd look great in it." John smiled, holding it up. "You like it?" He asked, putting it on.

"Oh yeah. It looks..." He then made a sign with his hand, John smiling at him in confusion. His thumb and pointing finger made an 'o' shape, his other three fingers pointing upwards.

"What?" John laughed in confusion, pushing his fringe out of his eyes.

"Oh. It means okay."

"Is that how they speak down in Manchester? With their hands?" John joked, standing up to walk over to the radio.

"Aye... Yeah, in Manchester." He nodded, looking down to his lap.

"Can't stay for much longer, Paulie. I got a rehearsal with my friends." John explained, messing around with the radio to try and get another station.

"Rehearsal? For like... A play?"

"No. For a band I have with my mates."

"What do you play?"

"Guitar." John spoke, letting an excited 'yes' slip out of his lips once he found a station playing rock music. "But I'm not any good." He shrugged.

"I doubt that."

"No it's true. I'm no good, my mates are better." He said, taking a seat.

"Who cares if your mates are 'better'? As long as you have talent and you feel like you're good, that's all that matters." John was surprised at Paul's words of wisdom.

Maybe Paul was right.

"Hm..." He thought, looking down as the previous song came to an end.

"It's Saturday the 5th November 1955, almost 10am, and the next song is 'Blue Suede Shoes', by the one and only Elvis Presley!"

"Now this is the sort of music that should never die." John smiled, beginning to dance.

Paul chuckled, suddenly looking like an idea came to him.

"If you really believe that, then why don't you make sure it never does die?"

"What makes you think it's gonna, Paulie?" John laughed. When Paul didn't respond, just swallowed thickly, John spoke up again. "I'm only teasin' you."

Paul smiled again, and boy was John happy to see that smile.

(A/N- I know that BSS wasn't out until '56 but shhhhhhh ;) )