Mysterious Boy - McLennon

6.

It was silent at the kitchen table, the only sound being from the metal spoon clanging against the chipped bowl that held both Paul and Mike's cereal.

All three of the McCartneys were there, eating with a tension in the room. Paul knew why, after all, he had basically lied to his father about being in a relationship with a boy he'd known for less than 24 hours. Jim thought it was true, and Paul didn't know how the man felt about it.

Jim had hardly said a word to Paul since the ordeal the night before, apart from when he woke the boy up this morning. The last time his father had woke him up was when his mother was still alive, and so when he head the man whisper for him to wake up, Paul was in shock.

Something had changed in Jim.

"Paulie?" Mike asked in a quiet tone as he placed his little spoon back into the empty bowl.

"Mhm?" He responded, staring at the bowl of cereal aimlessly.

"Should we go now?" The clock on the wall read 7:45am, the time the two usually set off, so that's what they did.

"Yeah." Paul immediately stood from his chair, which made Jim look up from his paper.

"Already?" Paul didn't dare look him in the eyes. He hated doing that, and so just stared at the ground whilst trying not to look completely terrified. When Jim stood up too, however, it became difficult. "I get it..."

"W-What?"

Jim was so close, his hand running through Paul's shaggy curls.

"You want to get to school early to hang out with your boyfriend..." He sounded calm, his hands slowly brushing through Paul's black hair.

"Yes, Da'..."

"Who are you talking to?" The sternness returned for a few seconds.

"Sorry, Daddy..." He hated saying those words, and tried his best not to look repulsed as he did so.

"I can drive you if you'd like... Hm?" The man's hand fell down to Paul's cheek, where a blue bruise was visible. He'd barely had time to look in the mirror, and so hadn't seen the bruise yet. But when Jim's hand grazed the sore, he seethed in pain. "Paul..."

"No, Daddy. We can walk, c-can't we Michael?" He looked down to the boy for help, even though poor Michael had no idea the terror in Paul's veins right now.

But it seemed Mike was feeling his own kind of fear right now, as he immediately nodded, grabbing Paul's hand eagerly.

"Alright then." The man's hand fell, and he backed up a little. "But, Paul?"

"Yes?"

"You should invite your boyfriend around here, how would that sound?" Jim asked, and to Paul's surprise his voice wasn't filled with venom.

Paul didn't mean to come out to Jim. It had been an accident, when Jim had overheard a phone call between both Paul and George. It was nasty business afterwards, but all Jim had convicted Paul of was lying. He didn't just call him disgusting or a faggot, just a liar, and a deceiver. Jim proceeded to beat the daylights out of Paul, and he only ever mentioned the ordeal whenever he wanted to spite his son.

But now Jim wanted Paul to invite his so called boyfriend over, even though...

Even though what?

Jim wasn't too mad about Paul being gay... He'd mainly just been angry at Paul for 'lying'. Like the night before, he hardly got any beatings for smoking, more so for lying about the cigarettes...

But did Paul want to invite John here anyway?

Not at all.

But would Paul be able to say no?

"I... I don't think so, Daddy..." Paul bit his lip.

"Why not?" His voice sounded rather monotone. Rather too emotionless for Paul's liking. "Are you embarrassed of your father or something?" There it was, the angry/offended tone that Paul dreaded.

"No, of course not, Daddy." He replied, desperately, looking up. "I just..." don't have a boyfriend. "Don't think he will want to come here just yet..."

Jim didn't respond at first, just folded his arms and looked Paul up and down. And then he turned around, beginning to walk away.

"Put some makeup on your face, you look like nobody fucking owns you." With those words, Jim had retaken his seat at the table and lifted his paper back up.

Mike tugged Paul's hands in the direction of the door, closing it behind them both as Mike led Paul over to their coats.

Paul stopped before the hallway's mirror, his face looking defeated as his eyes stared at the blue bruise formed on his face. It was turning purple, and Paul could still feel the connection between his fathers palm and his cheek from the night before.

Luckily he carried some of his old mother's foundation in his pocket, always applying it over the bruise discreetly. His father never had anything against his son using Mary's foundation, but it wasn't like Paul put on a lot anyway. Just enough to hide the marks there.

"Why does daddy scare you so much?" Mike's timid voice asked, watching Paul prod the makeup on his cheek.

"Because he has something I don't..." he sighed, shoving the tube back into his pocket.

"What's that?"

"No fear."