Mclennon Drabbles

A Great Way to Start

A/N: I know I'm super late, but here's a little New Years fic. It's really choppy and weirdly written but at least I'm starting to post again.

10..

Paul had been waiting for a chance like this for what felt like years. It was New Year's Eve and everybody who was anybody had gathered in Stuart Sutcliffe's tiny apartment, at Gambier Terrace. Paul was surprised the lad knew so many people, but figured that word must have just got around and guests invited their other friends and so on.

The night had been going smoothly so far. They had played some games, gotten absolutely smashed with a seemingly unlimited supply of vodka and scotch, and little by little couples disappeared down hallways or outside to be alone in their own little celebration.

Long ago Stu had put on a record supplied by one of his mates from the art college, but the excited talk and noise all around had drowned it out entirely. At the moment everyone was simply conversing and passing around drinks as the countdown led them into 1961.

Paul had a blonde lass practically attached to his hip, who was probably only hanging around in hopes of getting a kiss at the stroke of midnight. She was definitely fit, and not extremely boring, but in no way did she replace the person Paul wanted to snog the day lights out of tonight.

He kept glancing around the room warily, searching for his auburn mate, wanting more than anything to find him alone; no Cyn, no Stuart. He was becoming increasingly desperate with each time the clock's hand ticked.

9..

The girl next to him had her hand on his shoulder possessively, her nimble fingers stroking the side of his neck. It was rather distracting and ticklish, and suddenly Paul was feeling rather suffocated.

"Almost midnight.." She purred, moving her hand to rest on the middle of his back.

"Mmhm." He nodded noncommittally, meeting her pale blue eyes.

Got to find him, that bastard..

"Do you want another drink?" Paul asked, his hand twitching as he pressed his fist against his thigh.

The girl nodded, boldly letting her hand brush against his backside before speaking. "Yeah. Hurry up, darling."

Paul scowled off in the other direction, the corners of his pouty lips turned downward. He held an empty cup in his hand as he fought through the adrenalized throng of people, not caring if his company noticed that he was not going towards the kitchen. He took a deep breath, coughing loudly and painfully when he ended up with lungs full of smoke.

Pushing his hair out of his face he forced his way down the hall, not taking the time to apologize to everyone he had to shove.

8..

He searched every room in the dimly lit hallway, blushing deeply each time he stumbled upon a couple making out or something of the like. Paul felt someone reach out for his arm, and he spun around quickly, which was not a good idea in his inebriated state.

"Where are you going?" Stuart asked him, eyebrows raised.

He didn't seem to be intoxicated at all, which was odd considering it was his place, his party. Paul squinted his eyes at him and tried to gather his thoughts.

"Uh, have you - you seen John lately?" He swallowed down his saliva, pursing his lips.

"Can't say that I have. If you find him, tell him I need to speak to him." Stu answered.

Not bloody likely, artsy prick. Paul thought to himself with a sense of superiority over the boy.

He was getting John to himself tonight, and no one was stopping him.