Be Happy, Baby [Slash]

Be Happy, Baby [slash-boyxboy]

So this is a Beatles Slash story. Slash is the pairing of two males romantically, and it usually has some sort of m/m sex... If you're not into slash or the Bealtes then this story might not be for you... <3

Alright, the song for this chapter is "Help!" by the Beatles, from their movie. You can see all four of the boys in the video C:

The picture to the right is of the Beatles also, obviously. ---->

Left to Right ; Ringo, John, Paul, and George.

Pairings: John/Paul and George/Ringo..

Disclaimer: I own no rights to any of the Beatles themselves or their songs. :)

CHAPITRE UNE (1)

 August 13, 1965 

Paul was probably being dramatic, but he just felt like something was off with John lately. 

The signs that Paul noticed started out subtle enough and they were things that would normally get overlooked or even go unnoticed by most people. But when it came to John, Paul wasn’t most people. He learned from his long years of knowing John that he could usually read his friend like an open book, a book that’s text was overly-large and obnoxiously bold with italics in all the wrong places. 

Recently though, Paul was really starting to fear he was losing his ability to understand a thing about John. And it was kind of a drag. 

The main sign that screamed “I’m not okay! Help me! HELP ME!” over and over in Paul’s mind was John’s consistent denial that something was up. This was something to be expected though, seeing as how John absolutely hated all kinds of confrontation. Every time Paul would attempt pry his friend open, John would quickly snap shut and smoothly steer the conversation in another direction, completely dismissing Paul’s questioning. 

Today was little different. 

“‘Ey John?” Paul called out as a rather sickly looking guitarist walked into their shared suite. It was one of the nicer ones Brian booked for a change, and it was a relief to all four boys to have their own bed for at least few nights in all of this madness. America was even loonier the second time around, and the screaming fans that greeted them when they got off their plane were still ringing in Paul’s ears.

Paul had an idea of how this conversation would go as soon as he started it, but he prayed to God he would somehow get through to his band mate. 

“Yeh, what’s up Macca?” John walked over to the couch that Paul was currently occupying and flopped down beside him, stretching out so that his lean legs were thrown playfully over Paul’s lap. Paul studied his friend for a moment before speaking. He was acting normal enough, if normal was ever a word to describe John Lennon. He just looked… exhausted. Maybe -just maybe- today will be the day he finally opens up to me, Paul hoped.

They finally locked eyes after a moment of silence, so Paul began the battle he was sure to lose. 

“So... ya feelin’ alright as of late, mate?” He tried to sound casual, even conversational, but worry was tightly laced throughout his question. John raised an auburn eyebrow and shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t take his eyes off of the bassist’s. That was a good sign, right? Paul hoped so. 

“Whaddya mean? I’m fine.” John sounded convincing enough, but Paul could see right through the invisible shield John was already starting to put up. 

“Well, I mean, it’s just… you seem a bit off? Is somethin’ bothering ya? You can tell me, ya know that right?” John just stared silently, his face neutral, so Paul decided to keep going.