High on you

Let it be

Paul was nearly as bubbly as his drink. Legs crossed, teetering to the edge of the soft chair. The lad, Pete was chatting him up. And he slowly started to lean forward and give Paul small touches. His skin was warm and a lite with a buzz. Paul hummed with delight. When he looked up again the birds had gone, leaving Paul alone with Pete. For the first time in some hours, Paul had some sobriety knocked into him.

"Think I'm gonna get a water or something." Paul went to excuse himself but Pete reached out for his wrist.

"Aye, we just got our privacy..." he licked his lips but Paul's stomach just dropped. He tried to think of something to get him away, anything at all.

"I would just like to sober up a bit, you know?" Paul let out a laugh that was tinged slightly desperate. Petes hand curled around Paul's wrist, on the surface it seemed he was attempting to caress him but Paul felt the subtlety of his digging nails. He swallowed, unable to muck up his usual rightful bitchiness.

"You'll have a lot more fun if you're drunk." Pete's voice went immediately husky. With a lack of options, Paul stared at the back of those girls heads with as much intensity that he could muster, hoping they'd turn.

Mick nursed his last drink for the night and leaned his entire body on the counter. John stood firmly on the adjacent side, his cup half empty. "You know, I took inventory last week and we were short a few albums, would you know anything about-"

John cast a hanging glance to the crowd and spotted Pete, his hand clawed around McCartney's wrist. "Mick?"

"Yeah?"

"Shuddup for a bit, would ya?" John squinted his eyes, Mick chuckled and walked off. He was prepared to catch Paul telling Pete off but all he saw was him allowing his wrist to go limp. John quirked his brow.

Pete than stood, urging Paul too as well. John wondered if George- he was sat on a couch with his head low as if sleeping with some lad looking on with concern. John momentarily panicked, wondering if he'd been staring too long but he was relieved to find Pete and Paul in the same place.

"I don't think anyone's gonna miss us." Pete said, glancing at the drunk crowd and he started pulling Paul away.

"Aye! Pete!" John shouted, Pete instantly stiffened. John bounded over and put his hand on the sides of Petes shoulders. "Mick's gettin into his stash if you want-"

Before John could even finish, Pete had dropped Pauls wrist and scampered off. Paul watched him go with ultimate relief but his eyes fell back on John. "Yer mates an arse." Paul said simply. John looked back to where Pete had run off too.

"Yeah, Pete's- are you alright?" John scratched behind his ear. Paul nodded. "I'm gonna get some water if you-?" Paul was already following John to the kitchen, they got themselves some water.

"Why are you friends with him?" Paul heard himself ask. John shrugged. "Says a lot about you, doesn't it?" Paul asked, tone threading close to snotty. John shot his head up, hand still loosely holding his cup.

"Where do ya get off saying that? You don't know shit about me." John spat

"Alright...." Paul sat his cup down and crossed his arms with every bit of sass he had in his body.

"Alright?"

"Walk me home." Paul strung the inviting words together so flawlessly that John was distracted from being shocked and was instead intrigued. "That'd give ya some time to prove yourself." He glanced down at his wrist watch.

"Do I need to prove my self to ya?" John rolled his eyes but Paul just shrugged again.

"I dunno, do ya?" He asked and turned off, going out the door. John was about to turn the opposite way but...he couldn't.
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