**Happy Birthday, Johnny! I love you, I miss you and I wish you were here with us. I hope you're happy wherever you are and thank you for everything! <3 <3**
"Paul! Paul, wake up!" Paul growled as he felt his body being tugged at and shaken, and closed his eyes firmly shut in protest as he tried to slap the other man's hands away from his body, not wanting to wake up yet. He had been having such a good dream, about him and John swimming naked in a chocolate river that slowly turned into liquid gold, and he was eager to return there. It had been so nice and warm there, with John's arms wrapped around him while they swam.
"Macca, wake up! You have to wake up!" John tried again, shaking Paul's body a bit more urgently, trying to roll him over to face him, though being careful enough they didn't fall off the tiny single bed they were sharing. Paul moaned in complaint and stubbornly held onto the bed to keep John from doing so.
"John, piss off! I'm sleeping. You should be sleeping," he growled at him in frustration, and John whined, as he crawled a little further to the end of the bed, his hands finally letting go of his boyfriend's body.
"No, you don't understand. You have to move! There's a spider!" the older man said, his voice trembling with fear and Paul almost had to chuckle at how adorable he was. Almost. Right now, he just wanted to be left alone to sleep.
"Then kill it and go back to sleep!"
"No. You have to kill it. Get up, Macca," John all but begged and Paul groaned as he finally pulled his head out of his pillow and pried his eyes open to meet John's which were spread wide with fear as he stared at the wall above their bed. Paul groaned and rubbed his eyes to make himself feel more awake, before he sat up completely.
"Alright, Johnny. Where is it, then?" he asked and with a trembling hand, John raised his finger to point right above Paul's head at the wall. Paul felt his blood grow cold and he slowly turned his head, fearing what he would see, and let out a high-pitched yelp as he saw a small black spider just a few inches away from his face, crawling over the cheap yellowish wallpaper. Right away, he scrambled to the end of the bed where John was sitting, and clutched their only pillow close to him as if to defend himself. His boyfriend snickered at his reaction, but quickly silenced himself when Paul shot him an warning look.
"Shut up," he said, putting the pillow aside. John raised his hands in his defence, a look of fake shock on his face, as if he couldn't believe Paul would say something like that to him.
"I didn't even say anything!"
"No, but you were thinking it," Paul replied, and he didn't wait for John to open his mouth again. Instead, he slid off the small single bed and looked around the sparse hotel room for something to use to kill the spider with. John watched him quietly from the bed, but didn't move to help him, feeling terrified as he occasionally glanced at the spider to make sure it was still there. He winced when it crawled a little further up the wall.
"Paulie!" he moaned, and Paul grumbled back that he was trying. "Okay. Just... hurry up."
Paul grumbled curses to himself as he looked for something to use against the horrid spider. He didn't like them himself either; they were creepy, had too many legs, were too fast and he just really did not like them. He wished his boyfriend was as tough as he always made himself out to be, but of course, John had to be absolutely terrified of them, leaving him to be the one who had to get rid of them. Even just the thought alone was enough to make him shudder with disgust and fright. If it were up to him, they'd just grab their stuff and sleep in the hallway and wait for a maid to come up and do it for them, but of course John would never agree to that. And John called him a princess!
"Macca!" John's high pitched whines came from the bed again and Paul finally spotted an empty water glass on the dresser.
"Yes, yes! I'm coming. Don't get your knickers in a twist," he retorted and snatched the glass off the dresser, before turning back to the bed, where he saw John clutching the pillow he had put aside, holding it all the way up to his chin as he stared at the spider on the wall.
"Come on, John. It's not even a big one!"
"Piss off! If I remember correctly, you were the one letting out a girly high pitched yelp at the sight of it! And if you're so tough, please just get rid of it so we can go back to bed," John said and Paul gasped rather theatrically at that.
"Did my precious ears deceive me or did I just hear the great John Lennon just say 'please'?" he asked, but all he got in return was a death glare. He quickly nodded, took a deep breath and pulled a sheet of paper from the little notebook beside the bed, before approaching the wall with said spider on it. Thankfully, it wasn't moving anymore. Carefully, he raised his arm, moving slowly to both prepare himself and get the spider by surprise in one go, but before he could trap the spider in the glass, he changed his mind and turned back around as his arms fell to his side, his nerves getting the best of him.
"John, open the window, yeah? I want to get it out of here as soon as possible." John nodded in reply and got off the bed to do as Paul had said, clutching at the bed and the wall as he moved, his knees feeling weak. As soon as the window was wide open, Paul took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself and his nerves, before turning back around, raising his arms once again, higher and higher, until... no. His fear won out, Paul being terrified of the idea of actually capturing it and needing to bring it all the way to the window to throw it out of it. What if it crawled out again?
"You know, you could just kill it?" John suggested and Paul nodded at that with a sigh, liking the idea of having the spider dead much more, than carrying it somewhere else while it was still alive. God, he hated spiders. He wondered how he and George had ever managed to do this that one time in Wales when they had gone hitch-hiking. Probably they had only managed it because of George and their childish stupidity, none of which he had now.
"Right. Er... do you have a book or something I could use?" Paul said as he rushed back to place the glass back on the dresser, moving as far away from the spider as possible. John pretended to think as he closed the window again and shuffled to the other end of the room.
"No. I er... I had planned on spending this holiday with you, after all, not reading books. You know, enjoy Paris, the city of love and all that."
"John, you always bring a book. Where is it?" Paul asked, being slightly irritated. He had known his friend for long enough to know he wouldn't go anywhere without at least one book.
"But I still wanted to read it!" John whined in objection, but with one last firm look, he added, "It's in the drawer of the bedside table." Paul nodded as he got it out, keeping a watchful eye on the unmoving spider on the wall.
"Don't worry. You'll get it back," he assured John, who scoffed in return.
"Yes. With spider blood all over it."
"You ought to be thanking me for this, you know."
"Don't worry, I will, as soon as that damn evil spider from the deepest pit of hell is dead." Paul chuckled at that and nodded, taking his time to collect himself and gather enough courage as he shuffled back over to the spider, whining as it moved, not liking the sight of that at all. Once he was close enough, he leaned with one knee on the bed to get a littler closer so he could hit the wall harder and slowly raised the John's books. Thankfully, it wasn't that thick, making it easier for Paul to hold and smash the spider with. He took a deep breath and tried to steady his hand, as he kept his eyes firmly on the still unmoving spider, preparing himself.
"Paul! Just do it!" John encouraged him from across the room and just as Paul had been about the slam the spider with the book, it moved again, causing Paul to freak out at the last second and throw the book at it in a panic rather than actually hitting it with hit. The book missed his target only just, causing the spider the fall down from the wall and onto the bed. Right away, Paul jumped away from it with another yelp and scurried back to John on the other side of the room.
"What the fuck did you do?! I told you to hit it, not to throw a fucking book at it!" John hissed as him as he pushed himself further up the wall, watching in fear as the spider scurried over their bed, following the sheets and slowly heading to the floor.
"I'm sorry. I moved. I just freaked!" Paul said and John smacked the back of his head at that. "You do it then, if you know it all so well!" Paul hissed back, and John immediately shook his head.
"No. Sorry. You were doing great! Just bloody fantastic!" he quickly said and this time it was Paul's turn to hit him, smiling as John let out a little whelp. "So... what now?" John asked, rubbing his head.
"Get another room?" Paul suggested, but John shook his head and started looking around the room. Paul watched him curiously, and raised an eyebrow as John tiptoed over to where they had put their clothes and luggage and picked up a shoe, which he then handed to Paul, who looked at it doubtfully.
"A shoe? What am I going to do with a bloody shoe, John?"
"Use it to kill the spider of course. Just, you know, hit him this time," John said, and Paul shot him another warning look, before glancing back at the spider that was now sitting on the floor, doing nothing. He took another deep breath and nodded.
"Okay."
"Just don't throw it," John repeated, but Paul wasn't listening. He carefully tiptoed over to the spider - as if that was going to help him in any way - and held the shoe firmly in his hand as he got ready. He was going to have to keep his cool and do it quick. No freaking out at the last minute this time.
"Do you think french spider are poisonous?"
"Not helping, John!" Paul hissed back at him and raised up the shoe in the air, before letting it come down with a loud thud on the floor, right on top of the spider. Just to be absolutely, one hundred percent certain it was actually dead, he hit it in quick succession a couple of times over, before throwing the shoe across the room and jumping back up onto the bed, where he bumped into John, who had beaten him to it, coming to sit in his lap. Neither moved again, though. Both kept extremely quiet as they stared at the shoe across the room and the small spot of blood on the beige carpet, half expecting to see the spider again, alive and well. It didn't come.
"Do you... think it's dead?" Paul asked after almost three whole minutes of silence. John hummed in reply.
"I-I think so."
"Fucking spiders," Paul muttered with a sigh of relief and leaned back against his lover's chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around his waist and pull him closer as he buried his nose in the crook of Paul's neck, placing a tiny little kiss there.
"Thank you, Macca," he muttered against Paul's skin, causing the younger lad to chuckle at the somewhat ticklish feeling, but he didn't try to pull away, enjoying the attention he was getting. He even felt his cheeks heat up with a flush."My very own little hero."
"You better remember this the next time I ask you to do something for me, Lennon," Paul muttered, smiling as John's hands started to roam over his body, his kisses slowly trailing up his neck to his ear and alongside his jaw.
"Oh yes, sweetheart. I'll give you anything you want," John whispered in return, and Paul smirked at that, a mischievous twinkle appearing in his eyes.
"Anything?" he asked and John hummed as he suckled a mark just below his lover's chin.
"Anything, dear," he promised and Paul nodded, as he licked his lips in excitement.
"Alright. I think I can come up with something," he said, turning his head to capture John's mouth in a piercing kiss, as he let them fall back into bed with a giggle.
John watched his lover with amusement as they walked together along the Seine, arm in arm as they shared a cigarette. It was a lovely autumn day, the sun shining and the brown coloured leaves ruffling in the cool autumn wind, as people walked past time, talking to each other in that beautiful language as they laughed and occasionally kissed. The whole atmosphere that hung around the city was so romantic, it just made everything perfect. When Paul offered him a sip from his banana milkshake, he chuckled and politely refused.
"No. That one is yours and yours alone," he reminded him and Paul smiled brightly at that as he nodded, popping the straw back between his pouty lips and taking another sip. "I still can't believe that all you wanted was a bloody banana milkshake."
Paul shrugged in reply. "They're good," he simply stated and John chuckled again as he shook his head, his eyes still focused on his boyfriend, not being able to look away from him. He almost walked into a street lamp because of it, but Paul was quick to pull him close to him, making sure he missed the lamp only just.
"Thanks," John muttered as he looked back at the street lamp, and Paul smiled in return.
"Does this mean I can get another one? You know, for saving you again?" he asked eagerly and John could only nod, not being able to refuse his boyfriend something as simple as a banana milkshake. They weren't even all that expensive.
"Sure, luv. You can have all the banana milkshakes you want," he promised and Paul did a happy little skip in reply, making John chuckle once more. Honestly, he'd give Paul anything if it meant he got to see him this happy, spider or no spider.