Paris '61 (McLennon smut)

six

John dressed into his black leather jacket overtop of a plain black t-shirt, followed by some blue jeans. He hurried up and got a bag ready of several outfits of random clothing, just in case he decided to stay somewhere else for a couple days. He looked under his pillow and threw in his journal as well. But now that he had £100, he pretty much felt that he could stay wherever he wanted. He would just have to see wherever the day took him.

He nearly tripped down the staircase when his what he thought was proper tied shoelace came undone, but he managed to save himself with the railing; thankfully, nobody was around here to see that. He sat down at the table as if he didn't almost just break his wrist from that fall. And in no time, Lennon scarfed down all the food that was on his plate. He told his aunt his goodbyes and that he loved her, then left with the bag of clothes in hand. He only had one idea on where to go, and what better place to go brainstorm ideas at than with Paul?

//

He didn't want to talk to Paul's dad today so he looked around for a medium sized rock. He found one that was oblong shaped, but not too big that it could break the glass on where Paul's window was. He reeled his arm back, tossing it at the clear glass.

That rock, nothing.

A second rock. Even more of nothing.

But when he went to go throw a third rock, Paul appeared before his eyes to open up said window. "Are you nuts?" he whisper-yelled. "Why didn't y'just come on up?"

"Fuck that," John scoffed loudly, "Now come on. Let's go someplace. Come see how much money I got for me birthday for us to go do somethin'!" he really wanted to get going with Paul and ask if maybe he wanted to go to a nice restaurant for a change. It was just his first plan, okay? It was merely a rough draft of an idea.

Paul rolled his eyes and shrugged, agreeing because honestly, he nothing better to do. He didn't bring anything but the clothes on his back since he wasn't really sure what all John had in mind.

"M'coming, John! Just a second." Paul told him before he closed back the glass pane. Of course he would go with John. It was better than Paul finding out John took someone else, after all. Anyway--all he needed to do was just put shoes on; he didn't much have to get ready outfit-wise. He didn't change his clothes from the previous night out. He went out with a girl just the night before, not exactly scoring like he wanted to. But he didn't have a bad time, if that's of any concern.

Telling his dad he would call him with a verdict on when he would be back, he slipped out of his complex.

"Hey, Johnny," grinned Paul. "Who gave you money as a present already?"

"Me ol' auntie did, matter of fact. I think someone went in on it though. Don't think she could fork out that much for no practical reason." he smirked, pulling out the currency and handing it to Paul.

Unfolding it, he chuckled lightly. What in the world were they going to do with that much money? "Christ. What d'ya reckon we do with it?"

"Let me go get y'something to eat, at least. 'Cause i'm not hungry. But I really want to go somewhere, Paulie. Wanna escape this place for a bit while we can." said John, hands in his pockets as he led the way walking to nowhere in particular.

Paul couldn't argue with eating something nice. He copied John's walking style halfway by only putting one hand in his pocket.

"I can't make up my mind on where you should take me for brekky. I'm good with wherever. I don't need anything fancy on m'own."

John scoffed. "You sure do, McCartney. Don't act all modest now. I want us t'have the best day we can. It makes me feel good."

"To donate to charity?" Paul rolled his eyes, taking that completely out of context on purpose. He just wanted to make John a bit uncomfortable, testing something. Paul felt like he was unlocking a new level of him each day that passes by--it seemed there would be a breakthrough in this mild game of his soon in the days to follow.

"No, you're not, fuck! That's not what I meant," John always had a way of making things sound like he didn't he didn't think before speaking. Problem with that is that couldn't have been the thing. He didn't have any intention on being rude. But he didn't want to overstep any friendship boundaries anymore while not under any influence.

"I meant--it makes me happy...t'see you...happy. As a mate, you know! Nothing more. Okay? I'm not--a queer. Never have been. S'why I didn't tell you all of it. It sounded quite odd." John over-explained, his anxiety on the topic setting in. He could already tell Paul was eating this up, feeling as though he would get shit on consistently as of now. John truthfully wouldn't blame him if that was so, anyhow. It's what he deserved. To be laughed at and made fun of for liking his best mate, another bloke.

"I don't think you're a complete tart. I think you could be... I dunno, bisexual? Think that's the term I heard. I know you wouldn't be all the way queer." Paul reassured him. He wanted John to not be so uptight about this around him and not let it change things for them if it even were true in the first place. For all he knew, he could be reading him incorrectly and John was a complete straight man.

John exhaled annoyingly. He didn't know why his preferences were constantly under fire. The man didn't want to talk about this. Not right now, not ever, and especially not with Paul."Okay, alright. I won't talk about it no more. Sorry..." Paul laughed it off. He never wanted to anger his best friend. He wanted to hash it out without any argument.Rolling his eyes, he knew he needed to cool down before arguing any longer over this. "You're right. Let's just get on with it. I'm not owning up to being into blokes, though. Get that?"Paul nodded. He knew this wasn't any fight worth having, although he wanted to know just for his own personal gain. He decided to let John have the last word.