I cried hard again at the memory. For a split second I felt john there with me. I cried even harder. I honestly don't know how I've survived without being able to hold john. I started thinking of when our career really took off. When we came to America.
It was a somewhat cold day in Liverpool. The lads, George, Ringo, and John and I, were loading our bags onto our private plane. John was the first one to finish and sat down. "Macca, sit here." I chuckled. I went over and took a seat. "I love you McCartney." He took his hand and put it on my upper thigh. I put my head on his shoulder. Ringo and George just laughed. "Queer." They laughed harder. Then we were off. "Lennon?"
"Yes Macca?"
"What are we doing?"
"Cuddling."
"Yes Lennon I know that, I mean, we can't act like this in America unless we really get alone time."
"I know Paul."
"I love you John."
"Paul, look at me." I looked up at his warm features. His warm eyes.
"I will always, always love you, no matter what happens."
"I know." I whispered against his plump pink lips.
"We're alone tonight. Our own room. Together." John whispered. I was breathing against his lips. "And you know what that means." He rubbed my upper thigh indicating so I knew exactly what it meant. I got excited. We had never done 'it' before. I could only imagine the certain wonders tonight was to hold. I fell asleep on johns shoulder dreaming about him moaning my name loudly as I felt him all over. My boxers suddenly got tight. I laughed and opened my eyes. John was staring at me. "Got a boner, eh?" He chuckled. We later got to America and John woke me up to look out the window. "Wake up beautiful" I slowly opened my eyes and looked out the window. "Wow!" There billions of screaming fans. The next hours I don't remember that well. But soon we finally got to the hotel room. "You ready to go to bed, love?" John said smirking.
(OKAY SO THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE DIRTY SO JUST SKIP THAT CHAPTER IF YOU DONT WANT TO READ IT) :)
