╲⠀╲⠀╲ ╲
⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀☆⠀╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀★
may 1857
"Yer sure ye don' wanna?"
"Yes, 'm fookin' sure! Stop bloody askin' me." Paul rolled his doe eyes, eyebrows furrowing as the irritated boy plonked down on some nearby seats under the shade of an oak tree, George joining him with a sigh. It was early afternoon, the two having worked out on the garden with Paul's family, and now they were taking a quick break, wiping the sweat off their brows and Paul taking off his shirt.
"Fine, wha'ever. But- guess wha' I got??" The lanky dark-eyed boy turned to his friend with an excited grin, raising thick eyebrows before he leaped up and ran to the bushes to where his rucksack was placed.
"Oooh, wha' is it?" Mike turned around, hearing the last sentence George spoke and hurrying over with a grin, Paul gazing after George with a bored expression, though his eyes were sparkling with interest.
"Well, go on, guess!" George stood up, hands behind his back as he scampered back over to the two boys, obviously squirming just to get the words out.
"Ah, this should be good. Well, 'm guessin' money? Or food ye stole?" The raven-haired boy sat up, resting his pointy elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands, a small smirk starting to creep its way onto his sun-kissed face.
"Yeah, it's food. Bu' guess wha' type???" George grinned even wider, which was slightly unusual as the young boy usually had a face set in an intense, almost scary glare, and caught the other's interest a lot more.
"Fine. Uh, grapes? Oh!- bananas?" Paul's eyes widened, thinking of the possibilities, the things that could be lying in George's fingertips.
"Nope!" George paused for a moment, then spoke again, obviously too impatient to resist. "OH, wha'ever I can't keep it in! Ready.." The boy pulled his hands from behind his back to reveal two brand-spanking new, gleaming oranges and one carmine-coloured apple. "Tadaaaa!"
The three stare at it in absolute wonder and excitement, Paul leaping up and hurrying over to examine it, Mike reaching to grab one but George pulled away. "Ey! Wait a mo', mate. We'll all take one at th' same time."
"Wow... is this real? Fookin' 'ell, mate! Bonkers!" The doe-eyed boy reached and took an orange, staring at it in amazement as it glinted in the aureate rays.
"Yeah! Nicked 'em from th' palace. Right off th' lounge room table! They never bloody notice, been doin' it fer years. It's hilarious!" George chuckled, now letting Mike take an apple before digging his fanged teeth into the juicy apple. The four continued to chat happily, munching away on the delicious fruits they couldn't get enough of.
"Paulie." George started when Mike had been called away to do other jobs for Jim, knowing he would become annoying and probing if he brought this up within his friend's brother's vicinity. "Paul."
"What."
Paul huffed shortly, toying with the orange peel and not looking at George, knowing what he was going to say.
"C'mon, why can't ye meet 'im? I've been tellin' ya fer weeks, he really isn't bad! Jus' because 'e's the prince o' bloody liddypool doesn't mean 'e's a bad guy."
"Because! They're all th' fookin' same, anyroad. Rich bastards who don' care fer th' poor like us. I can't understand how ye like 'im!" Paul spat the words out with a look of fury on his face, flinging the orange peel into the distance, which unfortunately did not go far and hit his father on the back of the head, causing him to whip around and roll his eyes, sighing at Paul who mouthed an apology, shrinking in his seat slightly.
"No, they aren't! I know I can't change yer mind but ye have ta see reason, Paul! John really is a great guy once ye get ta know 'im, an' he does care about us, if he didn't 'e wouldn't be friends with me, aye?"
"I-I don' care wha' ye think! Rich people are scumbags, sitting on their velvet sofas and eating 'caviar' and grapes while people wait on their every command and us 'common' people slave away an' earn little ta none! Yer not gonna convince me otherwise." Paul grew more and more heated as he went along, throwing up his hands as he stood up and paced. "Now stop tryin'. In fact, go 'ang out with 'im now. 'm mad at ye." The fourteen year old crossed his arms in irritation and stomped off, leaving a confused and sad George behind.
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'From the very beginning— from the first moment, I may almost say— of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.'
These were the words that John Lennon mumbled to himself, a lit pipe dangling carelessly from his fingers as his eyes (framed by round glasses) scanned the page of Pride and Prejudice, a much beloved (you could tell it was by the amount of creases) book of his that he had owned for a while, a gift from Ringo to him on his birthday last year. It was an old book, published long ago back in 1813, but Jane Austen was one of his favourite authors and he had read Sense and Sensibility and Emma many times over. She was quite a rare one, as not many female authors existed and he was amazed at how wonderfully she wrote. He hoped that Elizabeth and Mr Darcy would get together soon, though. The anticipation was killing him.
Interrupting his reading, there was a soft, but urgent knock on his door and he jumped in fright, almost dropping his book to the floor as he gently set it upside down on the table in front of him and stood up. He knew who it was.
"Ey, Stu. Come'ead." Opening the door with a gentle creak, he slipped his friend into his room and shut the door quickly and locking it, before turning to gaze back at his friend. "Wha's up?" The auburn-haired prince flashed a smile before going back to sit in his plush-looking seat and taking another drag of the pipe. There was silence hanging in the stuffy room, darkness shadowing Stuart's face and casting shadows over his cheekbones. The only light coming in was from the lace curtains hanging from the window, casting patterned early morning light into the dark room.
"Uhm, well-" Stu cut himself off, voice slightly shaky as he shoved his hands into his pockets, muscles tense and jaw clenched slightly. "I jus'-" The dark-eyed boy lifted a hand to his forehead, rubbing it slightly with a grimace before speaking again. "Stand up."
"Ye wha'?" John glanced up to gaze at his friend in confusion, pipe half hanging from his mouth.
"Stand up, John."
His friend's voice was quieter now, but more steady and determined.
Blinking in confusion and slight wariness, the sixteen year old took out the pipe from his mouth and set it down, slowly standing up from the chair, before leaning on it and placing a hand on his hip.
Silence once again.
But it was suddenly broken as Stuart strided forward in one step and his familiar lips collided with John's, both sucking in a breath as the prince reeled back in shock slightly, muffled noise escaping as he was being pressed up against the wall before he could process anything. Instead of pulling out, though, he couldn't resist to run a hand through his friends' hair, both locked in a passion-filled kiss.
"Wh-wh-" John quickly placed a hand on Stu's chest and gently shoving him away, disconnecting their lips. "Stu- I-" Their shallow breaths filled the air as both stood in silence, Stu's eyes fluttering slightly as they stared at each other. "Stu-" John huffed and ran a hand through his own hair. "We can't."
"Why not? C'mon, it's not like ye got anythin' better ta do." Stu leaned forward and kissed at John's jaw, running them along it, the prince's eyes fluttering before he shoved his friend away, more harshly this time.
"Because! I-I-I just-" He paused. "We can't keep sneakin' 'round like this! We-we agreed ta never do this again." The boy reached for the pipe and took a large drag, shivering as the smoke filled his lungs and exited through his nose.
"Yeah.. I know, but-" Stu sighed, leaning against the wall beside John. "I still like ye. I wanna make this work." The painter moved forward until he was pressed up against him, looking up through his eyelashes into his friend's eyes. "Please, John. I miss ye. I miss us."
"Wha', bein' with a man?" John chuckled humourlessly, toying with Stuart's tie. "Sodomy? Homosexuality?"
Stu looked down.
"Look, I gotta go do sumthin' fer Mimi. I-I'll see ye later, yeah? Meet me back 'ere. 11pm, once Mimi's asleep." He placed a finger under his friend's chin and lifted his face, wiggling his eyebrows with a shit-eating grin. "Wha' d'ye say?"
Letting out a giggle, Stu nudged the prince's arm, letting a grin paint across his face as he walked backwards slightly. "Alrigh'. See ye then, eh, Johnny?"
"See ya." John couldn't resist to grasp Stu's tie and pull him in for another deep kiss, feeling the blackwood-haired boy smile into it before he pulled away.
"Okay, okay! Bye." Stu rolled his eyes, not being able to supress his grin before turning and opening the door, then shutting it and walking off, whistling as he faded into the distance.
John plonked into the chair and stuffed his head into his hands with a groan. Fuck me with a bloody axe.
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author's note.
________________________
hey gang !!! sorry sorry sorry for the wait omfg
i got super caught up in shit and writer's block
beat my fuckin ass so Yay for me lmaoo. i couldn't
resist adding a john/stu part after watching backbeat
oH my god i was like wow i gotta add some john/stu
to the mix like damn.anyways i hope u enjoy !!!
stay tuned for the next bit trust me i will update sooner
ahhh nvfdjbdfkdbvdf oki bye <33