Disclaimer: lolol s m u t alert
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I awoke in my bed with my covers and sheets tangled all around my body. The sun was shining through my window, causing me to squint my eyes once I peeled them open. My eyelids felt plastered shut, though, being how I fell asleep. All I could remember were the tears. So many tears. It's never fun to sob yourself to sleep, but here I am!
Honestly, I just want to punch myself in the face for everything that has occurred during these passed few days.
Although I'd rather do literally anything else, I sat up from my pillows and scratched the back of my head as I looked out my bedroom window. The blinds were pulled open and that made the room a lot brighter than it should be. With a groan, I got up and aggressively shut the curtains so that that the sunlight would be much less intrusive to me. After doing that, I simply sat back down on my bed. It must be pretty late being the sun is already high up in the sky. Curiously, I checked my watch just to see if I was right.
"Shit! It's 1 o' clock in the afternoon?!" I shouted to myself, "Thank God it's the weekend, damn!"
I hurriedly ran down the hallway and into the living room of my home. My Aunt Mimi was sat on her recliner, sipping tea and reading a novel of some sort.
"Bout time ye woke up!" She scoffed.
"Yeah, no kiddin'! 'Least it's Saturday, right?" I chuckled, placing my hands on my hips.
"Ye must be pretty hungry, huh? Ye never came down fer dinner last night and ye definitely haven't eaten breakfast yet!"
"Ye've read me mind!" I smiled, "I'll make us some pancakes."
"Don't worry yerself any, John, I've already got some made on the stove." Mimi stated, looking up at me as I was heading to the kitchen.
I finger-gunned in her direction, "Swear yer a psychic or somethin'."
Mimi rolled her eyes sarcastically and returned to reading her book. I quietly fixed myself to a plate of food and ate at the kitchen table.
Eating really did help me feel a bit better than before. Normally, a little argument with someone i'm dating would never get to me as much, but this is different! This isn't just some bird I decided to have a fling with. This is Paul McCartney. No, i'm not sure what makes this boy so special, but I just know that he is. He is special to me. This lovesick feeling may be the death of me!
I swallowed one last bite of the fluffy pancakes Mimi had made and washed my plate off in the sink. I took a dish towel that was laying next to the sink on a rack and then placed the dish back in the cupboard.
"Be in me room if ye need me!" I said to my Aunt, heading back down the hallway.
Mimi simply nodded in my direction just as I was going into my room. I shut the door behind me and flopped down into my bed just as I had done the night before.
I sighed deeply as I stared off into space.
Man, am I lonely as ever.
No one to speak to.
Just myself and my thoughts, right? Sorry bastard.
I twiddled my thumbs and stuck out my tongue, wishing to God there was someone I could talk to. That's when it came to me:
"Stu! I haven't rang him in ages!" I shouted to myself.
I sat up with a jolt and shuffled over to the telephone line that was set up next to my bed. I quickly dialed his digits and waited for him to pick up.
"Ello?" He answered.
"Stu, Stu, Stu!" I replied, "What's new?"
"John! Woah, it's been a while, hasn't it?" Stu replied with happiness in his voice. "I've been quite well, how abou' yerself?"
I smiled, "Oh, ye know. Same old, same old. Been performin' wi' my new band."
"Are ye gloatin'?" Stu asked jokingly, "So, that's why ye haven't rang me!"
"Ey that isn't true! Ye were supposed to call me back last time we chatted, but ye never did!" I retaliated.
"Oh, but I did! Never answered, though."
"Shit! Must've been 'cause I left a little while after we talked." I groaned.
"Mhm. Exactly!" Stu laughed. "Yer fault, not mine!"
And we continued on like that for a really long time; longer than i've really ever talked to anybody on the phone. Atleast, since I was a kid and had time to do stuff like this.
"Well, John, it was nice talkin' to ye. Keep in touch, alright?" Stu said, hinting at the end of the call. "If ye ever need me, ye know..."
"Oh! Sure, no problem. See ye 'round. Maybe, I can come visit Liverpool when I become rich and famous." I joked.
"That'll be the day!" Stu laughed in response.
The line went dead and I rolled my eyes as I set the phone back down in it's resting position. I then went back to laying down on my bed, this time with my feet crossed and my arms rested on my stomach.
It was nearly 5 o' clock, now, and I was feeling pretty okay. Talking to Stuart really helped me feel a lot better about things. If only I could go back to Liverpool, now.
"Jus call Paul" Mimi's words from a few days ago rang in my head.
Well, calling Stu was a good distraction for a little while. Here we are, yet again! Paul, Paul, Paul...
"He still loves ye." Richard's words repeated in my mind.
What the Hell, John? No. Quit thinking about this. And don't even think about dialing up that bloke's number. Like he'll answer?
Despite my eternal conflict, I was already at the telephone line again, punching in Paul's telephone numbers.
It rang and rang and rang.
No answer.
"Who woulda guessed!" I scolded myself, slamming the phone back down.
I sat there at the edge of my bed with my head thrown into my hands. I rubbed my face tirelessly and stood up with a stretch.
Paul, you've given me literally no choice.
"Mimi! I'll be back in a few, alright?" I said as I put on my coat.
"Alright, be safe!" Mimi smiled back at me as I left the house. "And be back soon."
The sky was becoming slowly darker the closer I got to Paul's house. I knew that if I went there, I wouldn't be able to knock on the door. Paul wouldn't answer and his father would probably break a hip if he saw me.
Instead, I looked up into Paul's window. It was shut, but I could get him to open it, i'm sure.
I took a pebble into my hand and tossed it up at his window. It hit the glass with a thud, but it was no use. Paul didn't appear in it.
This is useless!
My eyes studied the surroundings of his house. How the drainage pipe just conveniently tethered up the side of the house. Right by his window.
It wasn't long before I was climbing up the side of his house by that pipe.
I was sure it was his window. I knocked my knuckles against it and awaited for my boy to see me.
He still didn't budge!
I knocked three more times. Still nothing.
Eventually I was so fed up, I slammed as hard as I could against the glass and Paul came rushing over.
He opened the window and looked up at me staring down.
"John, yer an idiot." Paul quickly snapped.
"Well, 'ello there' to ye too, Macca!"
I walked into his bedroom from the opening of the window.
"What the fuck are ye doin' here, Lennon?" Paul asked in a tired tone.
"Ye weren't answerin' my calls, so... I took matters into me own hands!" I smiled.
Paul rolled his eyes and shut his window and met me back on the edge of his bed.
"John. Ye know it's difficult-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, Paul. I messed up. Bad. But ye've gotta realize jus how desperate I was for ye! I mean, doesn't this say somethin'? Doesn't it show ye jus how dedicated I am to-" I was speaking until Paul's lips interrupted me.
"Well, there's an idea." I joked after he pulled away.
Paul only giggled. That laugh made my entire body feel protected and comforted like a warm caress.
"I'm sorry for... treatin' ye... the way I did... But I was so afraid! I was so hurt. Ye can't deny that what ye did was pretty awful, yeah?" Paul said in a shy tone.
I wrapped my arm around him and he layed his head on my shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Paul. I am. More sorry than ye'll ever fully realize, I think. Ye don't need to apologize, I do."
Paul half-smiled as our eyes made eye contact again. His eyes were shining in the light of his lamp as well as the natural light shining through his window. I finally climbed through into his room and shut the glass behind me.
"Also," I cleared my throat, "How exactly did ye put up wi' yer father?"
"Oh, God." Paul snapped, "Ignorin' him helped. His drinkin' is gettin' worse and worse by the day!"
I wanted to hug that boy, "Well. Ye know yer welcome at me place, anytime. Ever."
"Thank ye, Johnny boy. I love ye, ye know that?"
I planted a kiss on the boys soft lips instead, "I do. And I love ye just as much!"
I stayed close to his face, our noses were touching as Paul stared down. He leaned his forehead against mine and then looked back up at my eyes.
"Thank ye for comin' over. It means a lot to me." Paul smiled as he talked. "Still upset, though." He snapped.
"Oh, Macca, it was no problem at all! I wanted to see ye. That's why I came."
We enclosed the space between our faces with a kiss. Our tongues eventually battling one another's as our hands began to trace eachother's bodies. Everytime I touched Paul's neck or inner thigh, his breathing hitched against my lips.
It was quite adorable.
Eventually, Paul ended up turning me to lay on his bed as he began to straddle me, not breaking our kiss for a second!
I began to fondle the buttons of his shirt, that was, until he grabbed my hand into his own.
"I'm still angry wi' ye, John."
I kissed his neck softly and whispered into his ear, "Then let me make it better, darl."
Paul's face turned a dark shade of red before he tackled my lips once more. Shirts were pulled off quickly and Macca struggled taking off my belt, so I had to help him.
We were left in only our boxers. Nervous, yet wanton tension surrounding us.
"Are ye sure yer ready?" I whispered close into his ear.
"Ofcourse. I want ye so bad, John." He paused, "I've... even dreamt about what it'd be like before..."
"Really?" I asked, curiously.
I then began to grope at Paul's bulge through his underwear. Each time I brushed against it, it became harder beneath my fingers.
Although he told me he was ready, he seemed slightly hesitant. Paul's bottom-lip quivered as I kissed against his jawline.
"Are ye nervous?" I teased.
"...Course. Aren't ye?" He replied softly.
"Well," I took a deep breath, looking back into his gaze, "Yeah. But... I think it's worth it. Yer worth the tiny bit of worry I've got."
I pecked his nose flirtatiously, "I'll be nice, don't worry yer pretty little head."
Paul smiled and exhaled through his mouth, "Alright, Lennon, I'm trustin' ye!" Paul joked.
"Shut yer gob, ...ye idiot..." I chuckled under my breath, entangling my fingers into Macca's messy hair.
Our lips soon enclosed the space between us just as they did before. Paul was now tracing my pantline and pulling at the rim of my underwear every once in a while. Our breathing grew heavier and heavier as the tension bewteen us grew thicker and thicker.
I've gotta make him mine.
While in the spur of the moment, I began to slide down Macca's underwear to his ankles. As I pulled them off of his legs, he stared into my eyes.
"Somethin' wrong?" I asked.
"No." His eyes traveled south, "Nothing at all."
I rolled my eyes, "Jeez, yer so easy, Macca."
I began to remove my underwear as well and soon enough it was just us. Skin on skin contact. Nothing else to block us or keep us barricaded from one another. Just the way it should be.
"It's gonna hurt like a bitch, ye know-"
"Not so fast, now. Slow yer roll!" Paul interrupted me, "Here-"
The boy hovering over me then reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a small, discrete bottle.
"And where the Hell did ye pick that up from?" I asked as he began to squirt the liquid over his fingers.
"Figured that it'd come in handy at some point during our relationship." Paul admitted, his face becoming redder than it was before.
I laughed at the cute incident until I felt Paul's delicate fingers wrap around my length. This new sensation caught me a bit off guard and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't gasp a little.
"Paul-" I gasped.
"Sh." Paul silenced me, kissing up my neck.
He began to work his hand up and down, running his thumb over the head each time he came back up. My thighs were a shakey mess and my nails began to dig into Paul's back, involuntarily. While all of this was happening, I was trying my hardest to bite back any other sounds that threatened to escape my lips.
"Alright." Paul said as he stopped. He then squirted the liquid over his fingers again, but this time he began to apply it to himself.
I allowed my hands to trace over his body as he prepared himself to take me. All of me.
He began to lower himself on to myself, contorting his face from the slight pain he had to be experiencing.
"Fuck-" I breathed out as he took more and more of me, "I'll- I'll be easy, alright, love?"
Paul looked into my eyes, his eyelashes curling perfectly over his hazel irises. His cheeks were definitely flushed and his lips were red and plump. Everything about him is just to die for.
I want to make him feel good. I want him to feel pure ecstasy.
Once I was sure that he was well-adjusted, I slowly thrusted upwards into him. His hands quickly grabbed at my arms and gripped tightly. Although his nails hurt, there's nothing else that I'd rather be doing right now.
I bucked my hips up a few more times, trying my best not to hurt him. He began to loosen up and even let out a few breathy moans, making me feel harder than a rock. I began to move in a rhythm that Paul seemed to enjoy. His hips began to roll against mine as sexual moans and obscenities poured from his lips like milk and honey. However, once I began to hit this certain spot, that was it.
Paul was a stuttery mess.
"J- John! Shit, I-" Paul moaned out.
The bed was shaking below us to the beat of our movement.
I pushed upwards a few more times until I felt it.
The rush.
The curling of toes.
The gripping at bedsheets.
Everything. Inside of the one I love.
I road out the high a little longer until Paul, presumably, felt the same way. He moaned quite loudly until I crashed our lips together again to muffle the noises.
We're still in his house, you know, late at night.
Everything settled and Paul collapsed next to me in his bed. His hair pushed all over his face, sticking to his forehead from the sweat.
Yeah, that probably sounds gross to you, but it was a beautiful sight to me.
Paul then pulled two cigarettes out of a carton he had on his nightstand and handed me one. I lit it between my lips as did Paul.
"I ain't gonna speak a word to him! Promise ye that." Paul said in a mocking tone. "No matter what he tries, Geo."
"What was that?" I asked with a confused grin.
"Oh, jus makin' fun of what I said to George not too long ago, is all." Paul replied, puffing on his ciggie once again.
"So, what I'm hearing is," I leaned in close to Paul's face, "ye forgive me?"
Paul stared at me for a little while, probably taking in everything that has occured in the passed few days. Hell, in the passed few minutes.
He just sighed deeply before pecking me on the lips, "Ye've got me wrapped aroun' yer little finger, Johnny! But don't get too cocky, now, we've still got a lot to talk abou'."
"He's gonna be pissed right off, don't ye think?" I asked out, puffing smoke off of my lips as I spoke.
"...I reckon that he'll get over it." Paul said, cocking his head.
"Don't be so sure abou' that, Macca, the lad still hates me after all these months." I joked.