"Maybe we should break up."
Paul regretted the words just as they came out of his mouth. His stress levels were off the charts and his brain was not complying with him. He wanted to tell John he didn't mean it, but he stayed silent, as did the older lad.
Finally, after what felt like forever to Paul, John said something. It wasn't nice, but it was something.
"Are you fucking serious, Paul?"
Paul didn't know what to say. There was a war going on in his mind. Half of his brain wanted to yes but the other half wanted to say no. All the while Paul just wanted to hug John and never let go. But he continued to do what he'd been doing, which was stay silent.
By now, John was pretty worried. He didn't want their relationship to end. He really love Paul and he didn't think he could bare to remain only as friends.
"You can't just drag me into your bullshit and then change your mind the next fucking day."
Both John and Paul knew it had been a week, of course, but exaggeration was key to an argument.
Anyway, Paul was still lying on the ground, staring at the sparkly sky, not saying a word. His brain wouldn't compromise with him and his thoughts were all jumbled up.
Meanwhile, John was starting to panic a little, since Paul wouldn't say anything. Maybe he was being too mean? John decided to take a nicer approach at trying to convince Paul not to break up with him.
"Look, I was perfectly fine with ignoring my feelings, but you dragged me into this, and there's no way in hell you're gonna get out of it this easily." John said it as sweetly as possible, but the only thing Paul did was sit up. He wouldn't even look at John.
Now Johns mind was having a panic attack and he did the only thing he could think of. Beg.
"Paul, please. I don't want us to end. We can sneak around. We've been doing it anyway. Your dad can't monitor you every second of your life." John paused to see if Paul would say anything. He didn't. "C'mon, Paul, please. I love you."
John hated how cheesy he sounded, but he needed Paul.
Paul stared at the older boy for a while, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, but his mouth wouldn't allow it.
"Paul! Get in here!" Jim suddenly yelled from the door. John looked at Paul with pleading eyes, trying to get him to say something before he went in. But Paul was looking straight at his dad with pure rage in his eyes.
"GO SHOVE YER THUMB UP YER ARSE!" Paul screamed. He turned to John and grabbed his face, bringing him in for a heated kiss. He wanted John to know that he didn't want to break up and he wanted Jim to know that they were staying together no matter what.
Paul heard the front door of his house slam shut and he filled with joy. He pulled away from the kiss, trying to catch his breath. He smiled at John who seemed to be quite happy also.
"I love you, too."
The older boy sighed in relief and looked over at the McCartney household. Jim was probably fuming with anger. He's had to have locked Paul out, now.
"Do you think he'll let you in?" John asked.
"I doubt it. But I don't care. I'm not going near him, he'll probably cripple me." Paul let out a small, nervous laugh.
"I guess you'll have to live with me for awhile." John grinned. He stood up and held out his hand for Paul. "Come 'ed, then."
And so, Paul grabbed his guitar and they started their trek to Mendips.
John went over what had happened not too long ago in his head. He left in the middle of dinner, complained to Stu, almost got dumped and now Paul was basically going to live with him. 'What a time to be alive,' John chuckled to himself.
"I can't believe you were goin' to break up with me. That would have been bad for my ego, y'know," John said, trying to start a conversation. It didn't work. Paul only laughed lightly and kept walking, clutching onto his guitar.
He was worried.
Not that living with John was horrible, but he didn't have any of his clothes or his toothbrush or any of that. And, of course, his own father hated him. Jim had threatened to hurt him, for Christ's sake! He'd never laid a hand on Paul before!
Not only that, but Jim didn't want him anywhere near John. Which wasn't stopping Paul from staying with John, but he'd have to go home some time. And when he did, his dad would never let him outside again.
Thinking about all of this made Paul's head ache again, and he just wanted to go home- well Johns house- and sleep.
"Are ye alright there, Paulie?"
"Yeh. It's just me head hurts, again," Paul replied, closing his eyes. God, it felt like his brain was going to burst through his skull.
John, taking notice to this, stopped in front of Paul, bending over slightly.
"Get on me back." Paul hesitated, but he slung his guitar around his back and hopped onto Johns.
"And don't fall over, else I'll beat you to a pulp," Paul threatened.
"Don't worry, Macca, you're safe with me."
Paul rested his head on Johns shoulder and shut his eyes, relaxing against his warm body.
John climbed the steps to the place he called home and let himself inside. Warm air covered his once cold body and he sighed in contentment.
"John? Is that you?" Mimi called. He strode over to the sitting room, a sleeping Paul still on his back. Mimi was sitting on the sofa, reading a book. She looked up, examining the scene in front of her, and gave John a puzzled look.
"Paul's gonna stay here for a little while."
"Why's that?"
"Family problems." Mimi nodded and went back to reading her book. She wasn't a very nosy person.
Paul seemed to be getting heavier by the minute, so John shuffled up the stairs to his room, and laid him on the bed. He took Paul's guitar and set it by his desk, making sure it wouldn't fall over.
What a day it's been.
~~~~
The Sun shone through the thin curtains, making the walls gleam a pale yellow. Birds were outside singing beautiful melodies, which is what woke Paul up. He didn't open his eyes, wanting to go back to sleep. He was rather comfortable, having something warm- which he guessed could only be Johns body- pressed against his back. The smell of breakfast making its way to Paul's nose from downstairs.
It was such a nice morning. It was so nice that Paul didn't even bother worrying about the situation with his dad. Instead, he turned over to face John and cuddled up close to him, trying to find sleep again.
"Boys! Breakfast!"
John shifted in bed, disturbing the sleeping Macca right next to him. Paul groaned, opening his eyes just enough to see Johns face.
"Good morning," John said in his raspy morning voice.
"Morning," Paul mumbled, stretching out his limbs to wake them up. Then he closed his eyes again. Gosh, was he tired.
"Come on. There's food downstairs to be eaten." John went downstairs and Paul soon followed.
They had the usual breakfast foods: sausage, scrambled eggs, toast, ect. Paul and Mimi made small talk the whole time. It was mainly just Mimi asking how he was, and how school was. Things like that.
"Are you two doing anything today?" Mimi queried, putting away the dishes she had just watched. Paul was about to say no, but John had chimed in before he couldn't even open his mouth.
"Oh, we're just gonna go into town, do a bit of shopping and whatnot."
"We are?"
"Yes, we are. Now be a good boy and go get dressed."
Paul rolled his eyes and did as he was told. He put on a clean pair of Johns jeans and a clean white shirt, which was also Johns. He didn't have any of his clothes, so he had to wear Johns, mind you.
They went into town, or should I say a street filled with stores, to buy things. Paul didn't what exactly they were going to buy, or with what money, but he followed John down the street. They wandered into a clothing store that was filled with middle aged women and just a couple men.
"Go pick out some clothes."
"Why?" Paul asked, looking over at John. Did they even have enough money for this?
"Well, ye need clothes, don't ya?" John was right. Paul did need clothes. All of his other attire was at his house, and there was no way he was going home and facing Jim.
Paul nodded and began his hunt for clothes.
It took about an hour, but he managed to pick out a few outfits. They paid and walked through a couple more stores, not seeing anything that caught their eye.
It was only about mid afternoon, and they had nothing else to do. The couple was just strolling through Liverpool, looking in shop windows and watching all the Liverpudlian people go about their day.
John tried to hold Paul's hand, but Paul pulled it away. "Not in public, John. Someone'll see."
John sighed heavily and looked ahead, finding a bar just across the street.
"Hey, Paulie, you wanna get a couple drinks?"
Paul eyed the club, uncertain of the drunk people that would be in there.
"C'mon," John said, grabbing Paul's wrist and dragging him to the pub.
They walked through the doors of the bar, being instantly drowned by all the chatter and loud music. The overwhelming smell of beer filled Paul's nose, making his face scrunch up in disgust. The smell was too strong.
John led Paul to two empty stools, motioning for the bartender to bring them two Lagers. Paul wasn't sure how John always got beer without being caught for being under age.
The bartender gave them their drinks without even questioning how old they were. Paul stared at his drink, hesitant to drink it. He didn't very much like beer. It tasted bland and, well, basically like shit.
John started gulping down the beer without thinking twice. The younger boy sighed, picking up the mug of Lager in front of him. What did he have to lose?
~~~~
Paul didn't know how much time passed, but he knew he'd had quite a few drinks. His eyes were half open and he felt funny. It was pretty loud in there, and it was giving him a headache. He turned to John who was still sat next to him, and tapped on his shoulder. John diverted his attention to Paul, who was obviously sloshed.
"Ey, Johnnyyy. Could jya tell all these wankerss to shhhhhhhhh," Paul leaned into Johns shoulder, holding his finger up to his mouth. "They're makin' me 'ead explode."
"Paul, how many drinks did you 'ave?" John wasn't watching Paul the whole time, and he didn't know how many he'd ordered.
"Like," Paul held up his hands and started counting on his fingers, "s-seven."
"For fucks sake." He'd never drank that much before. Paul usually only drank half a glass of beer. This was probably his first time getting drunk.
"Ey, Ey. Tha's a bad word. Don' say tha'." Paul started laughing. He didn't know why but everything seemed to be funnier than it actually was.
"Alright, Macca, you've had a bit too much. Let's get ya home."
"Noo. I wanna stay 'ere an' dance. Les dance Johnny." Paul got up and tried to pull John off of the stool, but he wouldn't budge.
"Jooohhnn," Paul whined.
"No, Paulie, we've got to go home." John took a couple pounds out of his pocket and put it on the counter, hoping it would be enough. Paul latched onto Johns arm and followed him out of the pub.
The streets seemed to be busy tonight. People were everywhere, going in and out of shops, buying whatever. Some people were on benches making out with their lover. Cars were going up and down the streets, but it mainly just teddy boys in their muscle cars, trying to pick up chicks.
Paul kept stumbling over his own feet, making John bump into anyone who was near him. They stopped at an empty bench and sat down, waiting for the bus.
"John, I don' feel so goood." Paul was clutching his stomach, looking around for a garbage can or something. He ran over to one and retched into it. John came over and rubbed his back as he vomited into the waste bin.
"This is why you shouldn't drink more than you can handle." Paul groaned and walked back to the bench.
"I can 'andle me alcohol very w-well thank ya very much."
Paul scooted closer to John as he sat back down, and laid his head on his shoulder.
"Paul, not in public. Someone'll see," John mocked Paul's words from earlier.
"Shhhhhhhhhhh," Paul whispered, holding his hand up to Johns mouth. John chuckled, lighting a cigarette and stroking Paul's hair lightly. A couple minutes passed, and neither boy said anything. John thought Paul had fallen asleep, but apparently he hadn't.
"Aye, John?"
"Hm?"
"You're a v-very attractive youngg lad, yakno tha'?" Paul sat up and hiccupped, before hair. "I don'know why th-the girlsss aren't all over youu." Paul kept slurring his words, making it harder for John to know what in the hell he was saying.
"I don't know, Paul. Maybe they know I'm already taken."
"Yesss. They prolly know tha' you're my Johnny and they can' have ya." By now Paul was straddling John, too drunk to care if anyone saw.
"An' since you're minne, I was wondering if maybee w-when we got 'ome, we could...yakno.." Paul trailed off and leaned in for a kiss, but John pushed him away as gently as he could.
"No, Paul. When we get home, you're going to sleep. Now sit down before someone sees."
"No." Paul pouted, not moving an inch. All he wanted to do was kiss John. Was that too much to ask? "Nottil you kiss me."
"Just please sit down," John demanded. He didn't have a problem with kissing Paul, he just didn't want to get caught and go to jail.
"Uh uh," Paul shook his head and crossed his arms. In his drunk and stubborn state, he was going to get this kiss even if it meant the world had to end.
At this point, John didn't have a choice. The bus would be here soon and people were starting to give them funny looks.
"Fine. Just a quick kiss." John quickly pecked Paul's lips, but to his surprise Paul grabbed his head and brought him back for another, longer kiss, not letting John move away. John tried (not very hard) to pull away, but Paul's grip on his head was too tight (not really). John just gave up, and kissed back, forgetting the world around him. Right now it was just him and Paul.
Until something knocked him out of his daze.
"PAUL?!"
The two lovers looked over at what seemed to be the source of the voice. It was Dot.
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I'm so confused, because Wattpad didn't put all the chapter in here and I'm not sure if its just MY Wattpad and you can see the whole chapter and I can't but I guess i fixed it, I don't know lol. ANYWAYY,
Have an amazing Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it, that is)