Growing Up Beside You [John Lennon/Beatles Fanfiction]

17. Don't take the piss (1)

"Right, shut yer mugs and listen to this good 'un" John said, after gulping his beer. He was sitting on top of a large oval table, legs wide open with his feet resting on the chair beneath him.

Holding his pint glass on his knee, he said: "So the teacher says, Today, kids, we're gonna learn multisyllabic words, does anybody have an example of a multisyllabic word?  Little Johnny waves his hand and says: Me, teacher!"

In imitation, John waved his hand high in the air, grinning. "So, the teacher smiles and says, A'right, Johnny, what's yer multisyllabic word? Little Johnny says: Mas-tur-bate. The teacher is proper shocked, but she manages to smile and says, Wow, Johnny, that's a mouthful! And Little Johnny says, No, miss, you're thinking of a blowjob- I'm talking about having a wank!"

An uproar of laughter arose from the audience seated around John. He laughed along with his mates, clinking glasses with those who had raised their glasses to applaud him.

"Hilarious," Celia muttered into the bottle of whatever filth she was drinking. It tasted bitter and yeasty, and she'd barely touched it for the hour that she'd had it. James bought her the beer to save face, though thankfully no one quizzed her about her so-called love for the stuff.

The past thirty minutes had been filled with the lads playing two rounds of who could tell the dirtiest joke and John's were far more offensive and obscene than anyone else's, and he seemed to be winning at it.

For the past hour, Celia managed to keep herself in the background, observing and listening rather than conversing or joining in with the joke-telling, not that she knew any good ones anyway. In truth, she couldn't be arsed for it all. She was still in mood from earlier at the cinema, and she'd rather be anywhere than a pub which she stupidly agreed to come to.

Loud conversations swirled in a dirty cloud of smoke, and the stench of tobacco hid within the mephitic odours of the stagnant beer-stained carpet. There was even a hint of sick tainting the fragrance of the room. Celia couldn't stand it much longer. She glanced at her watch. No one would notice if she just slipped away. It's not as if her friends were paying attention to her anyway. As predicted, Penny was too busy having it off with Eric and James was tending to a nauseous Diana, who only half an hour before had chugged two pints of beer to impress whoever it was she thought she needed to impress and now James was over at the bar comforting her by rubbing circles on her back. It turns out Diana Hickson is a complete lightweight who seemingly requires all of James' attention.

"Aren't we, Ce?"

Celia snapped back to attention. "Sorry, pardon?"

Penny sat next to Celia, with her arm around Eric's shoulder. "I said we're gonna smash the other team in our hockey match next week, ain't we?"

"Of course we are," Celia agreed, pressing the mouth of her bottle to her lips. "What with me on the team 'n all."

"You cheeky mare!" Penny nudged Celia, both of them grinning. "You hear what she just said to me, Eric?"

Eric mumbled a quick inattentive "yeah" while planting soft kisses along Penny's jawline. She giggled at the tickling sensation of his tongue sliding down her neck, and it didn't take her long to devote her full attention to him. She slid her fingers through Eric's hair and pulled him closer. So much for that conversation then.

Rolling her eyes, Celia turned her body away from them. She was done playing gooseberry to those two, and it didn't help that they'd both had a drink or two, either.

"Eh, fuckin' hell! Are those two plannin' on eatin' each other for dinner or what?" John grinned, nodding over at the randy couple who had started grunting through their intense, urgent kisses. There was no shame in the way Eric gripped one of Penny's unexposed breasts while grazing his thumb across her nipple. "How much we supposed to be payin' for this shitty shag show then, eh?"