I'm writing another epicly long fic...its JP of course. And the only people who will really be reading it are Stephanie and Tina...so I thought I'd see if any other blakers would be interested! I have the prologue and chapter one finished. Here ya go!: Enjoy: (OH btw, prologue takes place in '57, chapter one and the rest of the story will be '64)

Prologue rated PG, Chapter 1 rated R

Prologue: He was just 17...

Paul arrived at the Garden Fete a bit later than he’d planned, but only because Ivan had been by his house later than expected. Paul lived for music, and not just to play it. He’d never dare to pass up an opportunity to watch a fellow young musician play and possibly pick up a few new chords or techniques.

The two boys walked around the side of St. Peter’s to the back where the rock infused skiffle music could be heard wafting in the summer air, and stood by the back wall to watch the band.

“They’re The Quarry Men…they’re pretty good, yeah?” Ivan said, scanning the gathering for some alcohol. Paul wasn’t really paying attention to his friend. He was too busy watching the fingers of the bands’ front man. He didn’t seem very good. Paul thought he could easily outplay him and wondered if this might have been a wasted trip as far as educating himself went.

“What? Oh…oh yeah, they’re alright.” He said smiling. He watched idlely as the band strummed and slapped their washboards. Then the hopping folk sound of the music turned bluesy and Paul instantly recognized the tune. The front man opened his mouth and began to sing, and from the back of the church organization, Paul began to sing along with him.
When their lips stopped meshing together, Paul looked up quizzically.

“Hah! He’s getting the words wrong! The bugger.”

“But…but this is better. He’s just filling in with words from other songs…” Paul chuckled. “Well isn’t that clever. Who is that?”

“Oh him?” said Ivan. “That’s my mate John. I’ll introduce you after the show if you’d like.”

The show rapped up, the band packed up their things, but John fled the stage immediately. Paul spotted him heading to the church with a beer in hand, guitar trailing behind him, just barely missing the gravel.

“There’s a dance tonight they’re playing the music for, so we’d better go in and say hello now.”

“Yeah, alright.” They walked back around the side and in through the front, Ivan leading them through the familiar building into the back where parties and things like this take place. There was a rise in the floor about a foot up that was made into a makeshift stage on the far side. The room was empty save for the front man, John from before, who was busily tuning is guitar.

“Hey Lennon! You guys were great, as usual!” Ivan shouted out, crossing the room very quickly. Upon seeing him, John smiled widely, obviously a bit drunk, and stood with his arms open.

“Hey, thanks mate. It felt okay.”

“Oh, this is my friend Paul McCartney.” said Ivan, motioning to Paul, who had crossed the room and was stood beside the other two boys. “He also plays guitar. He’s really great! I’ve been telling him he’d be great for your band!”

“What?” Paul looked to Ivan, shocked. “Uhm..but”

“Yeah, just let him play a quick bit for you.” Ivan said. Without a word, John strummed the guitar once, and apparently satisfied with the sound, handed it to Paul and sat down with his legs crossed.

“Uh, okay, I’ll just play some Cochrane then.” He flipped the guitar over, tossed the strap over his head, found the opening chord and ripped hard right into Twenty Flight Rock. “Ooo, I got a girl with a record machine and when it comes to rockin', she's a queen…” Every chord, every lyric was executed perfectly and John was thoroughly impressed. Still, his face remained passive and he picked his beer bottle back off the ground and downed the last gulp.

“You’re good, Paul.” He smirked and reached out for his guitar. “Very good.” Paul blushed and looked to Ivan who smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Oh, hey, I really loved your improvising of the lyrics, but if you’d like I’d be glad to write ‘em out for you.” Paul said, basking in the praise.

“That’d be gear, man, thanks.” John smiled. Paul noted something in the smile and his face turned emotionless as he studied John. There was something in the thin, stretched smile…the almost regal slant of the nose…those eyes. He felt like this was a face he’d remember. “You’d be a great addition to the band if you’re up for it. We could do great things.”



Chapter 1

It’d been a tiring and unfruitful night, but it was finally going to be over. Paul leaned against the elevator wall and pressed the button for floor 12. It’d been a night of heavy drinking, chain smoking, and young, busty birds, but at the end of the night, he’d been unable to pull the hot brunette he’d been chatting up, so now he rode the shaft up to his room unsatisfied.

He got to the door to the room he shared with his best mate and fumbled through his wallet for the room key, his mind fuzzy and fingers slow. He heard creaking coming from inside, but brushed it off. Then he heard giggling voices and a harsh slapping sound and paused for a moment. He pushed the key in the slot and cracked the door to peak through.

There were two forms moving on John’s bed. It was dark but he could make out the silhouettes of a slim, feminine body bent over and a lank male body coming from behind to meet it repeatedly.

Paul didn’t know what came over him…whether it was the desire to sleep or the jealousy of his friend having a warm body at the end of the night or something else, but he slammed the door open and flipped the light switch.

“What the fuck is going on!?” Paul yelled into the room. The girl on the bed looked to the door frightened. John was startled momentarily, but it quickly turned into amusement. “Macca! Nice of you to join us. I’m pretty sure there’s room here for one more.” He smirked and spanked the ass in front of him. The girl grabbed at the sheets around her and pulled them to her body, pushing John away as she gracefully slid to the floor and scrambled out the door without even her clothing.

“Hey, bye Junie, thanks for the bum fun!” John called down the hall and closed the door. He walked back into the room, still in the nude, and bounced back onto his bed. “She was a looker, aye?”

“Fuck off, John.” Paul huffed into the bathroom and moments later the shower could be heard turning on. John sighed and laid back with his arms behind the bed. He should have been the one in a mood. Paul had scared away his lay. He should have been pissed, but he was surprisingly mellow. Truth be told, he had just wanted to let off some steam anyway. He hadn’t felt romantically toward any women lately, not even Cyn. But now his blood was pumping and he couldn’t sleep like this. Not when he had to face the press again tomorrow and had a throbber between his legs.

A few minutes later Paul entered the room in a burst of steam with a towel resting on his hips and a lazy scowl on his face.

“Have a nice night?” John asked innocently, the image of serenity.

“Put some bleeding clothes on.” Paul sat at the foot of his own bed and pulled his pajama bottoms up around his waist.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Paul just signed heavily and threw himself backwards onto the mattress.

“Ah…I see. Couldn’t get a girl to blow ya?”

“Fuck you…” He replied tiredly. John just laughed.

John sat up on his elbows and looked across the room at Paul. All he could see from this angle was Paul’s pixie nose and slicked back mop of hair behind his cotton covered thighs…he stared blankly trying to figure out why he had the impulse to go over to his friend and massage him through the fabric.

He brushed it off as being desperately horny and rolled over, pulling the sheets up over his sweaty body.

Paul rolled himself up in the heavy duvet and stared at the wall. His angry, drunken mind was fuzzy with lust and alcohol. He replayed the last half hour in his mind. When he got to the part with John and the girl in his bed, he replayed the moment over and over, his eyes becoming lidded and blood pumping fast until he took the place of the girl bent over, tangled in the cum stained sheets being pounded into the mattress. He rolled himself over and moaned, biting his bottom lip to try and shut himself up.

The rustling and stifled moaning only fueled John’s arousal and he sat up in bed. Paul was clutching to the blankets around him with a pained expression.

John got out of bed and walked around to Paul‘s side. He put his palm to Paul’s forehead and moved it to face him.

“Are you okay, mate?” John asked. Paul shuddered at the cool skin on his face and groaned.

“John…ohgod.” Paul groaned. Perplexed, John climbed into bed beside him and pulled the duvet from Paul’s flushed torso, thin sheets still clinging to him awkwardly.

Seeing the sheets draped over his friends delectably pale flesh entranced John further and he settled in behind him. When Paul thrust himself backwards, John finally dared touch his shoulder. “Paul…you’re so hot.” He smoothed his hand down his shoulder and to his side and started nuzzling Paul’s neck with closed lips.

“…nnngod..” said Paul, finally giving in and reaching down to take his own pulsing member into his hand. John stuck his tongue out and traced the shell of Paul’s ear slowly.

When Paul’s ministrations became erratic, John took hold of his elbow to still his movement and slipped his own hand over Paul’s to tease the head of his leaking cock. He bit down on Paul’s ear and jerked him hard and intensely as if it were his own member running slick through his fingers.
John ran his other hand through Paul’s hair and tugged his head back, revealing his slightly stubbled neck and sucked and nibbled the skin and hot pulse located there.

John pressed his body to Paul’s and spooned tightly behind him, his cock pressing hard against the cloth of his pants. He thrust against the heat radiating from the body of his best friend, the pleasure building, but not fast enough. He dropped his arm from Paul’s head and used it to pull the elastic of the pajamas down, running his member along the cleft of Paul’s ass.

“Don’t…” Paul pulled forward and away from John slightly.

“Shh…I’m not gonna do anything…just…” He let go of Paul and held his hips tightly, trusting against the heat of his bottom, struggling to hold himself back from what his body wanted him to do.

“No! John, god, just…” Paul thrashed and turned his body around to face John. His eyes alert and paranoid from the wrongness of what they were doing.

“Just…let go…” said John, closing the gap between their hips and taking hold of him again, trying to get him unhinged and work him to release. The moan that it brought from Paul was affirmation enough for John. He flipped Paul over onto his back and mounted him. Paul arched his back as John thrust messily, their members sliding together slickly with sweat and precum.

He hooked his arms underneath Paul’s and pressed their foreheads together, breathing in each others warm air.

Paul’s breath hitched and his chest heaved in euphoria as John’s dick coaxed the orgasm from his own. John silenced him with a rough kiss that muffled both of their sounds as John joined him and they shot over each others stomachs. John fell against Paul’s body knocking the wind from him and rolled over to his side, his palm sliding down Paul’s arm and locking their hands.

He pulled the sheets up over them both and they were both asleep within moments.
----
Paul woke later than he had meant to, feeling completely rested. Even when he woke, he decided to have a nice Saturday lie in. When he finally cracked his eyes open, John was no where to be seen. He saw the messy bed across the room and wondered if his hazey, horny mind had dreamt the entire night up. When he sat up and struggled to pull the sheet from his dry semen covered abdomen, he realized it was all real.
He cringed and headed for the bathroom to clean himself off.

Rushing around to find a washcloth, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and was transfixed. His hair stuck out like a peacock on one side, and the other side was greasy looking and stuck to his face. There was encrusted dried spittle surrounding his mouth and of course, his stomach was sticky.

He didn’t even recognize himself. He didn’t know what to think about anything and he definitely didn’t know how he was supposed to face John this morning. The only thing he really knew was that he needed a shower.

I already commented on it in our thread,
but you def. are giving the pairing justice.
Love iit.

Thanks love! I was so worried...thats the only thing that had kept me from writing JP for so long...cause I'd read so much and they're all so good and I didnt know if I could pull it off. So it means soooo much to hear you say that =D

Chapter 2


John hadn’t had any time at all to think about what happened the night before. He’d woken that morning with his face in the crook of a warm neck and his hand intertwined with another just as calloused as his own. He breathed in the scent of the dark hair in front of him and smoothed his hand over the broad chest.

Upon feeling the flat, breast-less chest in front of him, he sat up to find that it was Paul he was nuzzling, and images from the night before came flooding back. His first instinct was to brush back Paul’s bangs, but he stopped and forced himself out of bed, needing to get away to think.

When he entered the joint kitchen, everyone else was already there and having a conversation. Ringo and Brian were sat at the table and George was leaned against the counter picking at a plate of eggs. He sighed, realizing he wouldn’t be getting any privacy, and slumped down into the chair next to Brian.

“Well you look awful.” Brian said to John, pulling away from listening to the other two Beatles’ conversation.

“Thanks…haven’t had a chance to shower yet…”

“Nice night? Didn’t see Junie leave this morning. Thought all the trouble I went through to bring you a girl last night went to waste, but now I see…she must have just not bothered to stay.” Brian said coolly, sipping his tea nonchalantly.

“What are you trying to say Brian? That I look nice and freshly fucked this morning?” He raised his voice and his eyebrow.

“What? Never mind, it was just an innocent inquiry. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing…just…nothing.” John ran his hands through his hair and let his head fall to the table with a thud.

Not much time had passed, and then Paul entered the room dressed and clean, looking completely at ease.

“Morning.” He nodded to each person in the room in greeting, grabbed a bagel and sat at the table across from John. John looked up startled at seeing Paul spreading cream cheese on his breakfast so free of care.

“Good morning…” John tested. Paul just nodded, still smiling, but didn’t look up from his bagel.

“Well, you seem chipper. You were right pissed when you left the party last night. You must have met someone…” Ringo said.

“Yeah, you can tell, he got laid.” Said George bluntly, taking a bite of his eggs at last. Paul chuckled knowingly. The table talk continued comfortably enough, but John still sat eyeing Paul questioningly, while Paul’s eyes rested anywhere but John.

“Are you even going to fucking look at me?” John hissed across the table. “We need to talk.” Paul’s smile disappeared, but he didn’t look up.

“Not now.” Paul bit back.

“Aye there, George, Paul did get laid last night. She was a right looker too, if I say so myself. Kind of mannish though, hope you didn’t really fuck a bloke. Did yeh even bother checking for tits?”

Paul stared John right in the face, eyes wide. He stood up and motioned for the door leading out into the hallway and then briskly walked there himself and closed the door. He propped himself against the wall beside the door with his arms crossed. John came out into the hall with a pleased smirk on his face.

“What the fuck, John?”

“What? Embarrassed by who it was who got you off last night?”

“John, you’re the one who brought it up! I… I didn’t even want…”

“What didn’t you want, Paul? You should have said something sooner, like when I reached for your fucking cock.”

“Jesus, John! I was just going to say I didn’t want you saying things like that about me so…so blasé! That’s all! Calm the fuck down!” This seemed to have it’s desired effect.

“So…”

“Yeah…”

“We should…”

“…talk about this another time.” Paul sighed and reached for the door. John looked taken back and a bit upset. “But we will talk about it. Today. After the press conference. I promise.” He smiled. John gave a weak smile too and followed his friend back into the suite.

“That was weird.” George called over to the pair as they reentered.

“Hurry up and finish your breakfasts, boys, the press is waiting. They expect us at 2.”

----

The tiny room was completely loaded up with the finest of the areas reporters from every national and local newspaper and radio and television station. The table was set up with lights and microphones lining the entire side opposite four empty chairs.

“Here they come. It‘s The Beatles!” A female voice announced, followed by heavy applause as the four young men from Liverpool entered, waving, and sat in their seats assigned for the event: John, Paul, George, Ringo.

And the questions began.

“Is that your real hair?”

“Is that yours?” replied Ringo, cheekily. ‘Well this is going to be a riveting day in the press’ thought John, propping his head up on his hand. He looked over to Paul. He was the perfect image of charisma. Good posture, bright and enthusiastic face. He sat alert and with a smile for every question asked, no matter how stupid.

And the fag between his slender fingers, every now and then raised to his plush, full lips. He breathed in…and out, the smoke wafting through his teeth. John didn’t know when he’d become attracted to Paul, but he knew now without a doubt that he was. Right now he wanted nothing more than to be that cigarette.

Paul licked his lips and John bit down on his knuckles. ‘When is this bloody conference going to end?’ John hadn’t realized he’d been losing his composure. When he looked back up, Paul was staring at him with concern.

“Are you okay?” Paul mouthed. John struggled for a smile but it wouldn’t come.

“I don’t know…” He whispered back and closed his eyes tight. He got up and left the room without another word.

“I-I’m sorry, you’re going to have to excuse me.” Paul got up from his seat and followed John out. He looked around and down the hallways but didn’t see John anywhere. He was just about to go back to the conference and try to explain himself when the closet door beside him opened and John’s head poked out.

“John? What’s wrong with you? We gotta go back.”

“I need you to…come in here. Now.” John said. Paul gave him a look but followed him into the broom closet.

“John, I told you we’d talk later, okay? So let’s just go back now.” Paul said, about to go back into the hallway. John stopped him.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Then wha-” Paul was cut off by John’s mouth covering his own briefly. When he pulled back, he looked back at Paul horrified. “John…”

“I’m sorry…but last night. It felt so right to me. So good. And I couldn’t stop watching you back in there…and you’re so…” This time Paul cut John off. He kissed him fully, leaning back against the closed door and pulling John to him. John pinned Paul down with his hips and grinded against him, the kiss intensifying as Paul arched his back and grasped at John, desperate for purchase.

“I don’t know what’s happening.” John said into Paul’s mouth.

“I don’t either.” He replied, bumping their noses together. John thrust harshly up against Paul through their clothing.

“But I like it.” said John, capturing his mouth in another kiss.

“Mmm…” Paul hummed.

-----

“Where have you been?”

Paul cracked the closet door and stuck his face out to find Brian coming down the hall and stopping in front of the door. He sounded angry and crossed his arms.

“Is John in there with you? What the hell, Paul?”

Paul came out completely and closed the door. Brian looked down and noticed the prominent boner Paul was sporting and was speechless.

“Eppy giving you trouble?” John had crept out of the room and stood next to Paul, adjusting his overcoat to hide his crotch.

“What were you boys doing in there? And don’t lie to me, I’m not stupid.”

“Yes, Brian, we know. You’re a queer.”

“John!” Paul said, aghast.

“Boys! If there’s something going on, just tell me.” Brian said. Everyone was silent for a few moments. “Do you…do you two have a relationship?”

“No! No, of course not…?” Paul struggled and looked to John for help.

“Well, no I mean you don’t necessarily have a relationship with someone just because you’ve fooled around with them, right?” John shrugged. At this point, Paul was bright red, covering his crotch with both hands.

“Be serious, John. The truth is, you do have a relationship in both business and friendship, and you need to be careful if you’re developing a sexual one as well. Truth be told…I suspected there was something more going on…We might want to bring George and Ringo into the circle also…”

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with that, Eppy.” Paul said. “And honestly, this…thing…has only been going on since last night! We don’t know what’s happening yet, really.”

“Well, I have things to do. But in all seriousness, boys, keep me in the loop. As your manager, I need to know the nature of all this.” And with that, the two songwriters were alone again.

“I’m sorry if I’m making you feel awkward.” John said.

“No, its not you. It’s just the situation.”

“Oh I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve snogged in a broom closet, Macca.” John laughed.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Paul shifted uncomfortably. He looked into John’s face, all sharp edges and seriousness masking the true nature of the man before him. “…wanting my best friend.” It was John’s turn to blush.

“Well, lets do this right then.” John said, getting down on one knee. Paul’s eyes nearly bulged from his head. “John, what the…?”

“Shh…ahem.” John cleared his throat and continued. “We’ve been best mates for a long time. I know this isn’t how things are supposed to be but…Paulie? Will you…go on a date with me?”

Paul laughed loudly and took John’s hand to help him up. “You’re such a fucking poof, John.”

“Hey, at least I’m not the girl in the relationship.”

OMG!
that is so cuuute!
I love it.
Specially the very ending[[x
hehe.

^I'm glad you love it! =D That makes me burst with joyous feeling ^_^

i actually will read it amy.
i'm just too tired tonight (:

^Coolbeans! =]
I'm excited to hear that

Chapter 4

Paul was sat in his favorite chair, frowning at the wall, a glass of red wine in his hand, when there was a knock at the door. He took a long sip from his glass and placed it on the table beside him as he got up.

As expected, John was on the other side of the door. Paul noticed that
the sun was starting to go down.

“Well, can I come in?” John asked. His expression was worried, and judging by their phone call and the look Paul was giving him, he had every right to be. Paul didn’t say anything, but nodded, forcing a smile and moving aside to let John in.

Paul went and sat back down where he had been seated before, and picked his wine back up.

“Would you like a glass?” He asked John. John was getting impatient and wanted to stop beating around the bush, but he nodded and moved to the coffee table to pour himself wine into the glass that was already sitting there waiting for him.

“Thanks.” He said, taking a seat on the couch opposite Paul. It was quiet for a while, so John thought he’d just have to be the one to get the ball rolling.

“Are you okay?” He asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“Of course, I am, John. But I do think we need to talk…” Paul said.

“About what?”

“Well, we’ve said we had to talk days ago! But it’s been all fooling around and holding hands, hasn’t it?”

“Oh…” John replied. He didn’t know what to say and hoped Paul would keep going.

“So yeah. What the hell am I supposed to do about Jane?”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Paul. That’s not where this should start.”

“Then you start.”

“Well…what was it that happened exactly?” John said, and Paul opened his mouth to start talking. John knew he was about to explain the phone call with his girlfriend, so cut him off. “I mean, a week ago. When all of this started.”

“Oh…” Paul felt embarrassed about that night suddenly, and he wasn’t sure why. “What about it?”

“Well, were you just horny and wanted a hand on your prick? Or what was it? Because if that was all, I think we should probably go back a few steps…”

“I think I might love you.” Paul blurted out, staring at the wine swirling around in his glass. A jolt went through John’s body and he couldn’t keep brightness out of his eyes.

“Paul, look at me.” Paul was afraid to look up. Afraid of what he’d find. But he forced his head up and saw that John was smiling widely.

----

A few hours and bottles of wine later, Paul was lying between John’s splayed legs on the couch. Paul’s head was led back on his friend’s shoulder, and he was intently studying his current glass of alcohol with a lazy smile on his face.

“Why is it that I always gotta be drunk to get this close to you?” Paul said, sounding more sober than he was.

“I don’t know. You should really look into that, though. Maybe you’re only gay when you’re pissed out of your head.” John chuckled and wrapped his arm over Paul’s chest, hugging him close.

“I do love you, John. I really do. I think I always have.” Paul admitted, rocking his head back and forth. John closed his eyes and hummed happily. “No, really. I think it was love at first sight…when I first saw you at St. Peter’s.” He continued, turning around to face John.

“I remember seeing you in the crowd. Your eyes…” John pulled Paul’s head down to his face and kissed his closed eyelids one by one. “…drilled into my skull. You were so beautiful.” He said, tracing Paul’s eyebrow with his thumb. Paul blushed and buried his face in John’s arm pit, giggling.

“I love you, Johnny…” Paul squealed and turned his entire body over so that his leg was between John’s thighs. “I want you so bad…sososo bad…” Paul’s chants muffled into John’s t-shirt.

John tensed up and hissed as Paul started swiveling his hips to grind against him deliciously.

“I want you, too…fuck.” John managed to say. He grabbed Paul’s ass and forced him closer and harder. He squeezed his bottom tight, and Paul moaned openly. “I want to feel you…to be inside of you.” John groaned out, wanting to vocalize his desire, but hoping he wouldn’t scare Paul away by doing so.

Paul removed his face from John’s shirt and looked up into his eyes intently. He looked like he was thinking things through. Finally, he licked his lips and nodded slowly.

“I want you as close to me as possible.” He smiled deliciously and gave a sharp thrust downward. That was all John could take before he had to kiss Paul. They had to be connected somewhere.

The kiss was desperate and hungry, both fighting for dominance. It was a passionate, nearly violent kiss with tongues sliding together and teeth nipping anywhere they could manage to. John held Paul’s head in place and moved his mouth to his cheek, then his jaw, and down his neck to his collarbone, leaving Paul’s mouth gasping and moaning helplessly.

“Let’s…let’s go to the bedroom.”

John detached himself from Paul’s neck and flung him over his shoulder. He was able to get a few feet, but they both stumbled over into a nearby chair, Paul laughing hysterically and getting up to walk himself the rest of the way.

When they got to the bed, the kissing continued, but had died down to languid, lazy smooches, as if they had no reason to rush. Every few minutes they’d manage to remove a piece of clothing from one of themselves and toss it to the side.

John had Paul pinned to the bed, John on his knees between Paul’s legs and his arms on either side of his head. John was now completely naked, and Paul had only his underpants on, creating the final barrier. John stopped kissing Paul and sat back into his knees.

He reached to hook his thumbs into the elastic of Paul’s pants, and slowly pulled them down over his thighs. Paul kicked them off and they both looked down to the area that had just been revealed.

Paul blushed at now having himself completely on show for John, but got over the embarrassment quickly as John took hold of him firmly and suddenly. He couldn’t stop the moan from escaping, and was fixated by the sight of John’s hands on him.

John nudged up closer, and thrust up a bit as a hint, and Paul quickly took hold of John as well.

“Do you…do you have some lotion or something?” John asked, spreading Paul’s legs with his knees.

“What? Oh, yeah, in that drawer there should be…” Paul replied and motioned to the bedside table next to them. John fumbled with the table and pulled out a small tube of hand cream.

“Hmm…this should do.” John said, clicking the top open. Paul moaned long and slow, and then laughed at the fact that just the thought of why John had the lotion could get such a reaction from him.

John squeezed a fair amount of the stuff into his hand, and then paused. He’d been confident up to this point, but now felt a bit uneasy. What if he hurt Paul? He’d fuck up everything they’d been building towards during the last 7 years.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asked.

“Don’t you want to?” Paul replied, confused.

“More than you could know…” John looked into Paul’s eyes. Paul took John’s hand, smoothed the lotion in his palm over his fingers and pulled it down toward his body, nodding that it was okay.

“Do it.”

John bit his lip and slowly inserted a finger into Paul, feeling his friend’s body tense up at the intrusion.

“Are you alright?” John asked immediately, and Paul chuckled at his reaction.

“Don’t worry about me, just come on.” His blood was pumping with anticipation and complete lack of what was to come. John pushed the finger deeper and added another, moving them around awkwardly.

“Do you think that’s enough?” John asked. Paul looked down at John’s dick and knew that it probably wasn’t, but just shrugged.

“Maybe another?”

“Okay.” John breathed out quietly and added a third digit. He pulled them out and squeezed more lotion onto his hand, which he used to coat his dick. He laid down on top of Paul, putting his weight onto his arms that framed Paul’s face.

“You ready?” John asked, their eyes locked. Paul tried to relax, but couldn’t. He was scared, but couldn’t show his fear to John who would let his insecurity get the better of him and back out after all of this. So he nodded and moved his legs to wrap around John, urging him on.
John pushed in slowly and Paul cried out in unexpected pain, holding onto John’s shoulders tightly.

“Fuuuuck…” John moaned in overwhelming pleasure. “You’re so fucking tight, Paul…holy shit…”

Paul whined and tossed his head to the side, eyes screwed shut with pain. “Just…just do something!”

John needed no other incentive. He pulled back out, then thrust in deep, unable to control his body as it was suctioned into the tight heat.

“Fuck, Paul…I have to go faster…” He started on into Paul’s body, delirious with how great he felt. Paul whined and shied away from the thrusts, wondering why queer men would enjoy this and thinking there must be something he wasn’t getting. Just as he was about to try to fight John off and just see if he’d be content to wank together, it happened.

“John!” Paul gasped and pulled his torso down to him in shock. “God…uhh…I need…fuck!”

Relieved that his partner was getting something out of the act now as well, John adjusted his hold on Paul’s hips and slammed into him again and again. Paul was spiraling out of control, grabbing and scratching at John’s back to try and gain some semblance of purchase, and moved his hips up to meet John’s thrust.

“I…I…shit.” Paul’s eyes fluttered closed and he grabbed his own cock, nearly blacking out from the double stimulation. Without warning, he came over his hand and John’s stomach, arching back and clenching his muscle around John, coaxing the orgasm from him as well until they were both panting and clinging to each other in post-coital euphoria.

“Don’t go.” Paul whined desperately when John made to pull out and roll over. “I need you.” John smiled and brushed back Paul’s sweat drenched fringe, kissing his naked forehead lightly.

John settled on top of Paul, making sure not to squish him. When Paul was sure John wasn’t going to move, he released his back from the leg vice grip and let his knees stay bent on either side of John’s thighs.

“That was…incredible.” John gushed, basking in the happiness radiating off of Paul.

“I don’t ever want you to leave me…we should stay like this forever.” Paul looked up at John, drowsily.

“I think we’d make a scene though, really.” John said, and they both giggled. “And we’d probably look pretty silly on stage.”

“Just stay with me ‘til I fall asleep?”

“Okay…but this position won’t do…” John tucked his legs under them and sat up, pulling Paul into his lap and then laying him down with John spooned up behind, all without disconnecting their bodies.

John smoothed his hand through Paul’s hair until he felt his breathing steady.

=O

...You know what I think of these two chapters.
3 = ADORABLENESSOCITY!
4 = SEXNESSOCITY! hot, too [[x

Chapter 5

They woke the next day and immediately started their snogging again. Neither could keep his hands or lips off of the other.

“We really should get out of bed, John.” Paul panted, John’s hands running roughly over his body.

“Why? Feeling kinky? Want to shag on the steps?” John muffled into Paul’s mouth seductively, eyes lidded.

“No, you wanker. It’s 2 in the afternoon. Weren’t we meant to all meet up at the studio today?”

“Fuck them.” John purred, twirling Paul’s hair in his fingers. “Let’s just stay in bed all day and do horribly wonderful things to each other.” Paul laughed and let himself be kissed again. But this time, when it ended, he pushed John back and got up from the bed.

He grabbed for the sheet to cover himself, but John yanked it away, and pulled Paul forward by his hips, bumping their body’s together and humming.

“Well…” Paul gasped. “We’re running late, so we’ll probably only have time for one shower.” He pulled away and walked hastily to the bathroom as John followed behind, cackling in victory.

----

“You’re late.” George Martin said, tapping his foot, looking at his watch.

“I know, we’re so sorry, GM, really, we…” Paul started.

“Yes, boys, where were you?” Brian said, eyeing them from across the room.

“We slept in.” John said simply, walking to his spot to take his guitar from it’s case. Paul sighed, wishing they could have done as John said and just stayed in bed all day. He nodded to his friends with an apologetic smile and went to take his seat across from John, beside his Hofner and mic stand.

He hissed sharply as he sat down, not expecting the soreness to be so pronounced. Everyone’s eyes were on him, and John put a hand over his mouth, trying not to giggle. “Uh…backache.” Paul said quickly, shaking his head and holding his hands against his lower back.

----

The session went great. They’d gotten quite a few songs for their upcoming film done, and thusly were rewarded with a well-deserved rest. Paul remained standing, holding onto the mic stand loosely, not wanting to risk sitting down again. John had put away his Rickenbacker and taken out a nice sounding acoustic to strum idley.

“Want to get something to eat, guys?” Ringo asked, coming back into the room after using the restroom.

“Sure, Rings.” Paul said, smiling.

“I could go for some grub.” John said, fixated on his instrument.

“Hey, don’t make plans. Eppy says we have to make an appearance at some Beatle party.” George said, walking into the room eating a banana. Brian came in after him, looking a little on edge.

“What’s this party, eh?” John asked, quizzically.

“It’s something of a press event, but there will also be snacks and dancing, so it should be enjoyable.” Everyone nodded accordingly. “And there will be girls.” He added.

“Oh, fab!” George cried and smiled widely, bits of banana trying to escape from his teeth. Paul tried to smile and he hoped it didn’t look how he felt it must. He looked to John nervously and saw the same emotion reflected in him. ‘Or maybe not.’ Paul thought, mentally rolling his eyes when John winked at him.

“Come on, boys. It’s a somewhat casual happening, but we shouldn’t be too late. It’s in your honor, as you know.”

Paul and John silently decided to ride in separate cars as to distance themselves a bit in the others’ eyes. It was more so for Paul, who was feeling a bit paranoid, but John was happy to oblige.

Paul rode with Ringo, Mal, and Neil. John rode with George, Brian, and George Martin.

The event wasn’t very far away. It had only been about 10 minutes when they started to see people pushed together in mass, trying to get into the same building.

“This is a private party, isn’t it?” Paul asked, fearing for their safety.

“Oh yes. These are just the fan girls. Wanting a glimpse of The Beatles an’ all that, you know.” Mal said from his place at the wheel. Paul nodded.

“How are we getting in?” Ringo asked, brow furrowed with curiosity, and with alarm at the sight of the birds pressing their bodies against the gate a few yards away.

“Leave that to us. No worries.”

----

They got in with little issue, thanks to the van disguised as a plumbing company vehicle. They made their way around the building and inside without incident.

When they were all reunited, John made a beeline for Paul, deciding they’d had enough alone time for the day, but stopped dead when Paul gave him a pointed, warning look. John squinted in confusion and just stood there as everyone else entered the room into the party.

Paul sighed as journalists buzzed around him, spouting off idiotic questions. Of course he just had to grin and bare it. Thankfully it didn’t go on for long, and soon the party died down to some conversation, casual interviewing, and lots of dancing to frantic rock music.

Paul sat in the softest looking chair he could find and sipped at a drink someone had thrust into his hand a bit before.

After he had a waiter refill his glass a few times, Brian came to sit beside him.

“How are you enjoying the party, Paul?” He asked politely enough.

“It’s nice. Good drink.” Paul smiled. “No fucking clue what it is, but it’s really grand.” He giggled and took another swallow.

“Paul. Is there anything I should know?” Brian asked, fearing where this would go, with Paul being in the state he was in.

“Not really, no. What do you mean?”

“Is there something you want to tell me about you and John? I know last time we discussed this it was a bit-”

“Eppy.” Paul cut him off. “I heard what you said before, but do we really need to report every time we fuck?” The cemented confidence in the intimacy of the previous night mixed with the booze. Brian’s face was completely shocked, his eyes wide and terrified.

“Paul, would you please refrain from such wording so…publicly?” He hissed, but somehow managed to compose his face.

“Why? Who fucking cares anymore?”

“Paul, forget it, I shouldn’t have bothered. We’ll talk another time.”

“No, Brian. We can talk now. I’ll behave.” Paul sipped demurely, eyes closed.

“I’m serious, Paul, if you say something else…”

“What is it you want to know, Brian? Do you want to know if we’re in love?” Paul said, nothing in his expression giving away the topic of discussion to anyone who may have been looking over.

Brian didn’t say anything. Instead he stared at Paul, annoyed. He felt a mixture of jealousy and sincere curiosity. When he didn’t answer, Paul looked up from his glass, sucking on his bottom lip, eyes threatening to pull closed. He looked like he was either drunk, or a tired four year old.

“I love him, Brian.” He whispered, looking into his managers eyes, unfaltering. Brian stood up, nodding to no one in particular, adjusted his suit buttons, and walked away to find a conversation to join. He didn’t feel like he could speak, but he’d just gesture at appropriate intervals for a while.

Paul sighed and slunk into his seat, head propped against the arm rest. He was almost asleep, right there, in the middle of the party, when he had another visitor.

“Hey there, Macca.” It was John. Paul perked up a bit, smiling shyly. “Am I allowed to be associated with you, now? Are you done being a paranoid fool?”

“Of course you can, Johnny.” Paul giggled drunkenly, not hearing the insult. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny…” He mumbled. “I love you, you know. I do, Johnny.” John stared at him, eyes wide, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“I love you, too, mate.” John said, platonically. “What’s that you’re drinking?” Paul shrugged. With each movement or word to come from his mouth, Paul appeared more and more shitfaced.

“I want another!” He laughed, downing the contents of the glass and then holding it into the air.

“I don’t think so.” John took it from him and placed it on a nearby table. “Can I get a couple glasses of water?” John called out to a waiter, who nodded and rushed off.

“Hey John, love.” Paul whispered. “I told Eppy.”

“You told Eppy what?”

“I told him about us, John.” Paul snickered, like it was a hilarious joke.

“I thought he already knew about that, remember? The closet?” John was confused, but amused by Paul’s drunken childlike demeanor.

“No! I told him we’re in love, Johnny.” Paul smiled, covering his eyes with his hand and sticking his tongue out. John raised an eyebrow and scanned the room for Brian. He was stood beside his assistant, Peter Brown, and a few other people John didn’t recognize. He didn’t look very happy. Not at all.

“Oh. I see.” John blushed, but tried to regain an apathetic look about him as he saw the waiter returning with their water.

Paul sipped at his water slowly, sighing into the taste on his tongue as he felt the ice cold liquid from inside his chest.

“Maybe we should go on to bed? See if the others are ready to go?” John asked. “It’s getting rather late. And you’re straight pissed.”

“The others are probably getting some by now, don’t you think?” Paul asked as he looked around the crowd. He didn’t see George or Ringo anywhere. “Spending the night with some lucky bird. Oh! Is that what you have planned, love? Trying to get me alone, heh?” Paul winked. ‘Damn him, he still looks adorable, even when pissed,’ John thought, massaging his temples.

“Actually, I thought we could get a good nights sleep tonight, Macca.”

Paul paused, deep in thought. His eye brows came together momentarily, then his face suddenly relaxed and a grin formed on his lips.

“Oh, alright. Let’s go.” Paul said, decidedly planning to try to change John’s mind once they were alone. He took John’s hand with his that wasn’t holding the cup.

John’s eyes found Brian again as they headed out. He looked upset still. ‘I’ll have to have a chat with him in the morning.’ John thought. Suddenly, Brian whispered something into Peter’s ear. Peter smiled cheekily and they both fled the room. ‘…or, maybe not.’ John laughed to himself and followed Paul out.

AW!
=O
I love it.
Specially the endingish.
It's so cuuute.

^What about the ending? lmao x]] Like what part of it? I wanna know =O

“Oh, alright. Let’s go.” Paul said, decidedly planning to try to change John’s mind once they were alone. He took John’s hand with his that wasn’t holding the cup.

I love that[[x
And just ALL of it.
heh.
It's really good, love.
[: