The wind blew softly, like a hand of a loving mother to her child. At least, that's how Paul felt; another presence was outside with him, even though he was alone. How could he possibly say it was anyone other than his own mother, letting him know everything would be okay. He and John would be okay. Jules would be okay. They had enough bad luck between them. It was time for something good.
"Hey. What're you doing out here? I woke up and you weren't there."
Paul turned around at the sound of his soon-to-be-husband's voice and then back towards the yard. "Just thinking is all."
"Not getting cold-feet, are ye, love?" John joked, wrapping his arms around Paul's waist from behind.
Paul snorted. "Oh, yeah. I've decided to leave you at the altar for Ringo."
"That means I'm stuck with George. How could you do that to me?" John played along. "Send us a postcard."
McCartney laughed, his smile reaching to his eyes. "Sure thing. Speaking of traveling...I suppose you won't tell me where we're going on our honeymoon?"
"Nope."
"Worth a shot. Not even a hint?"
"Sorry, Paulie. Can't spoil your dinner with dessert." John replied with a wink.
"Nice metaphor." Paul head John chuckle and then fall silent, perhaps feeling the same thing Paul felt not a moment before.
"This is really happening." John said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
"This is happening."
"I should've probably stayed with Geo and Rings tonight."
Paul twisted himself around in John's arms. "Why?"
"They tell you not to look at the bride before the wedding."
"Piss off." Paul slapped his chest and then went in for a kiss which John accepted without hesitating. "Let's go back to bed. We'll get plenty of this later."
"Right you are Macca, love. Right you are."
~~~~
"Are you sure the cake will be here? I'm concerned about a miscommunication. What if they bring it to the wrong place? What i – ."
"Brian has had a terrible influence on you Paul. Calm down, alright?" Jax placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder. "The cake will be here. Tell me you don't think Brian double checked everything you two planned?"
Paul huffed in amusement. "You're right. I'm just so bloody nervous and it doesn't help that I'm expecting the worst to happen, like any moment, I'll wake up in a hospital, seventeen and frightened, my father..." He paused, unable to finish and tears threatening at the corner of his eyes.
Jax laid soft hands on Paul's cheeks. "This is real...Peanut."
With a playful shove, Paul knocked off the hands on his face. "Oh, God. You know most people use those endearing terms for children, right? Please don't ever tell John you call me that. I'll never hear the end of it."
"Oh? You don't like that one? Then how about – ."
"No! Please anything but that one. Daaaaddd."
"My little stinker-winker-bear!" Jax drew heavy on his American accent, pulling Paul into a smothering hug.
"Dot taunted me for two weeks after you called me that! I beg you to not tell John any of this."
Jax's smile was mischievous and Paul did. Not. Like it. He opened his mouth to question when a snort sounded from behind him.
"Oh, don't worry, stinker-winker-bear, John's already heard it."
"I swear to all that is holy, John Winston Lennon, if you call me that on the altar, you will not get sex for a year. Am I understood?" Paul ranted without turning around, eyes dangerous on Jax.
The latter balked. "This is too much for my old ears, besides," he moved from his son's gaze to the door where John stood, smirking. "You are not allowed in here."
"Just a little peek, sir! I can behave, sir, I promise, sir! I've had lessons, sir." John replied, dropping to his knees, hands grabbing at Jax's coat.
Paul laughed, still turned away. "Just because you've had lessons doesn't mean you passed the class, love. Now get up off the floor before you ruin your tux."
"I've always made fun of you for being a teacher, but I realized just now that your teacher-voice is quite the turn on," flirted John.
Jax threw a disgusted face. "Father is still in the room and can still kick your ass. Get out of here before I shove my –." His threat was cut off by a disgruntled and slightly worried Brian in the doorway.
"There you are, John! Come on, I don't think I've ever met a grown man who acts more like a child than Jax. Hello, Paul."
Paul waved, still facing away, but debating turning around.
"Keeps you on your toes. Can't have you going lazy on me." Jax winked suggestively.
"Please, stop! My ears didn't need to hear that. John, humor them and go back to the other room," Paul requested, exasperated. "And behave."
"But...muuuum!"
"John!"
"Fine. Fine. I'll go. But not before this!" John made his way past both parents to wrap his arms around Paul's waist, whispering in his ear. "Don't worry, my eyes are closed. I knew you'd be nervous, but my warden wouldn't let me come visit you. Those bad-luck scenarios you've running in that head of yours won't come true. I won't let them. And by the way, your arse looks good in that white tux." With a brush of his lips right behind Paul's ear, John let himself be led away.
A sigh escaped Paul's lips. He knew exactly what Jax tried to do and he felt grateful for it. The edginess and ridiculous nervousness all but flushed away, especially after John's words.
Laughter.
Paul was laughing and he lost it seeing the look of worry come across his father's face. No, he wasn't losing his mind. It was rather that he saw the absurdity of everything. His childhood, his relationship with John. He'd climbed his way back up from somewhere he'd never thought he'd break out of. As far as he's concerned, today...today he's untouchable. Immortal. Paul had made it this far without crashing and so maybe, just maybe, fate wasn't against him.
Maybe it's been with him the entire time.
~~~~
They'd decided on an outdoor venue, getting permission to hold the wedding in a secluded area with stone ruins littering the ground like stones in a pond. John had come across the place randomly searching rural landscapes on the Google, booked it, and then decided to let Paul know. He remembered how angry Paul had gotten and was expecting to be put outside for the night, but ended up getting some of the best sex of his life. The place really did match everything they both wanted and Paul realized that upon seeing the pictures of the place and the friendliness of the staff.
They'd picked white tuxes to offset the stark green landscape and to rid themselves of the black and white traditions. John'd really tried to get a neon colored suit for them both, but was thwarted by Paul's raised eyebrow and an expertly executed slap to the back of the head.
The best part, thought, was how everything came together: the flowers, the music, the guests. People whom neither of them had spoken to in years, but invited on a whim, RSVP'd to their wedding and the sheer happiness that spread across Paul's face was more than John could have asked for.
He glanced around from the side he stood on, admiring the atmosphere created by the wedding (neither of them wanted to walk down the aisle, no matter how much their family members begged). As a child and as a teenager, John hated being dragged to weddings, never understanding the big deal. Why did there have to be a big ceremony when you could just pop on down to the courthouse? No fuss, no crazy relatives. Now, though, John couldn't see himself giving Paul anything less than a grand ceremony. Well, a form of one. There were only about 45 guests total, mostly Paul's family and close friends. That's all they wanted it limited to and they both had to barter with Mimi to keep it that way, though in the end the woman invited some of John's distant relatives.
It didn't seem like much time before the music started and the wedding began. The procession started with Ringo, Julian, Mike and George taking their spots where John and Paul would stand, respectively. John would be meeting Paul in the middle, approaching from the sides, Paul escorted by Brian and Jax. Lennon felt a little sting of jealousy in his heart, but still declined Jax's offer to walk with him.
Taking a deep breath, John proceeded to take a step but felt an arm link around his right arm.
"You couldn't possibly think I would let you walk alone?"
Mimi stood there, head held higher to see her nephew, but also to show how proud she was. The opportunity presented itself and John wrapped himself around her, trying to convey all the appreciation and love he should have shown all those years ago.
"Now, now. You're going to be late to your own wedding."
"You always told me I would be."
~~~~
Paul,
They told me to write you a love song,
That vows were like a love song.
I found it much more complicated.
We wrote love songs together
Nose-to-nose for hours,
The words flowing out
Like they wanted to be written down.
They were always about nameless love,
Never about us.
Writing songs to each other seemed too real,
Too naming, solidifying, concrete.
We never wanted to put a label on what we were.
I think, though,
It wasn't for a lack of trying.
It was just too hard.
Too difficult to find words to describe us
And that's because there aren't any.
That, precisely, is why
It took me until last night to write this.
The English language does not have enough words.
I can only say 'I love you' and hope,
Hope you always feel those words.
From now until forever.
Because I love you.
~~~~
John.
Biblical. God is gracious.
I found it fits.
It only took me letting you go to realize,
That He is gracious.
You know as well as I do that I'm not religious.
But I can't help but think someone
Is looking out for us.
Someone brought you back to me.
Although Mike claims it was him,
I can't help but think our mothers
Are playing matchmaker up there.
I almost feel bad for God.
They probably pestered the poor entity daily.
I'm proud, though.
I'm proud of us.
Despite everything, we're standing here
With all the people who love us the most.
We made it through the worst.
You and I against the world, forever.
Right, Johnny, babe?
~~~~
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Paul looked up from Julian sitting on his lap to see his brother and George and Ringo standing up, champagne glasses in hand. A quick glance at John and he knew whatever came next couldn't be good. They should have expected nothing less of those three, but the matter stands. Paul is not prepared.
Mike starts off, once the room quiets. "So. Who wants to hear and embarrassing story about Paul?" The rumble of soft chuckles echoed around the small banquet hall. "Kidding. Kidding. Gotta save the best stories for last," he shot a wink at Paul and John. "Anyway, I get to speak first because I'm the youngest and the one who's known Paul and John the longest. Shut up, George, it's true."
John snorted next to Paul and draped an arm around his chair, probably thinking about how that conversation went down. Paul gripped Johns hand, which hung loosely on his shoulder, more as a security line for what he is sure is about to be the most embarrassing moment of his life.
"Moving on," Mike continued, "Paul's quite a bit older than me –."
"Hey!" Paul interrupted and his brother ignored.
"Paul is quite a bit older than me and so is John. When Paul would take me places when I was little, people always assumed he was my father. Never in a good sense, either. Nasty glances, disgusted whispers. But never once did I see Paul break under it. He always had the strength of a thousand armies that I looked, no, look up to. I still don't see how he could juggle school, me, John, work, and manage to keep an optimistic outlook on life. What I didn't see at the time, though, was how much of an impact John also had on my life, on Paul. That strength of a thousand armies I mentioned didn't come free of emotional baggage. It's a lot for one person. Now, when I think back, there were cracks in Paul's façade. But, when John came into the picture...I saw them start to disappear, to mend. I'd never seen Paul allow anyone in like that, not even George. I looked up to John. I don't remember this, but I seemed dead set on trying to get John to like me. Paul says I used to ask every hour if John wanted tea or coffee or even cookies. John treated me like family. I firmly believe had things gone differently, we would have been. Sooner than this. I'm so incredibly happy, though. My life couldn't be more perfect. I love you, Paul... and I guess I love you, too, John."
Slowly, Paul handed Julian over to John to stand up. In a quick movement, he enveloped his brother into a hug. "You little turd," Paul whispered just loud enough for Mike, voice shaky with threatening emotions.
Mike laughed. "I told you I'd make you cry."
"I thought you'd embarrass the hell out of me," Paul said as he pulled away.
A cough from the other side of table drew their attention. George stood up with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face. He pointed to Ringo and himself.
"That's our job."
Paul's eyes immediately jumped to John, who paled. Mike cackled and shoved Paul back down in his seat, giving the floor to George and Ringo. The room hushed again.
"Did I ever tell you," George began, "the time I locked John and Paul in the closet?"
~~~~
"It's over."
John looked over at his husband in the passenger's seat and responded, "No."
"What?" Paul balked at the pointedness he'd never heard in John's voice.
"It's not over. Just a new chapter."
The fond smile on Paul's face made every moment before this worth it for John. They'd made it through the whole wedding without someone or something ruining it. Not even the embarrassing stories from George and Ringo spoiled his mood, because he had to admit, they were rather funny.
Now, though, they were going to be heading off to three weeks as newly-weds. The destination of which John has still not told Paul.
"So. The moment has come, John. Where are we going?"
There it is, John thought. "Look in the back seat."
Paul twisted his body to get access the back. A moment later he had a medium-sized, sealed box in his hand.
"Open it." John urged, trying to force down the smile fighting to appear on his face.
The younger male did as he was told, ripping off the packing tape, his face twisting as he pulled out the contents. "What the hell is this?"
"What is it?"
"It's Lederhosen."
"And where does one find Lederhosen, darling?"
"Austria, Switzerland, Southern Germany."
John rolled his eyes. "Think about it, Paulie."
"Oh my God."
"And you call me thick..."
"You're taking me to Germany."
Laughter finally escaped from John. "There we go, love."
"Pull over."
"What? Why?"
"Are we going to be late for a flight?"
John checked his watch. "No. We have about seven hours before the flight. We have to pick up the luggage from your parent's house. Why?"
"Pull over."
Doing as he was told, John thought he did something wrong. "Paul –."
He was cut off as Paul climbed on top of him in the driver's seat, kissing him passionately.
"You are a bastard, you know that?" Paul said as he pulled away.
"I think so."
"Good." He climbed off and buckled himself back into the seat. "Where are we going in Germany?"
"I've booked a hotel in a city called Regensburg. It's pretty close to everywhere in Bavaria. We can even get to Salzburg, Austria from there. You can reprise your role as Maria von Trapp."
"George had no right to tell that story."
"So it was true." John howled. "Oh, God, Paul. Your poor childhood."
"I was helping the Children's Theater, John."
"Maria von Trapp!"
"Keep going, Lennon, and I promise you, you'll only have your right hand for the entire honeymoon."
John narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
"Fine. No more jokes."
They rode in a comfortable silence for five minutes before John started whistling Edelweiss.
"John!"