Paris '61 (McLennon smut)

ten

They just sat and listened to the engine run for most of the time, not speaking too much about anything until the driver of the truck decided to put the radio up enough for the two in the rear to hear as well. But it was only when they were nearing the ‘Welcome to London’ sign. John laughed at the realization and pointed at it. When Paul noticed it himself, they both giggled together.

“Fuckin’ finally decides to let us have a listen right when he’s gonna drop us off.” John explained why he thought it was comical, Paul rolling his eyes. He didn’t know why John always explained stuff he already understood.

“Yeah. That was a right prick move on his part, you know,” Paul replied, hoping that this certain man’s decision to park was to let them go here.

The man parked at a gas station, and John sat up to observe him curiously as he rolled down his window. “D’ya mind if we get on from here?” he yelled to him.

The driver shook his head, “No, you lot can go on now if that’s what yuns want.”

“Do you need fuel money?” John asked with a smile. He hopped off the side and stood at the window to speak to him.

“No, I’m good. Was coming here anyway. It’s no issue to help.”

Paul followed John’s lead and got out as well, watching as an attendant working the pump came up to see how much he was getting. John backed away and let him get at it, waving at the guy who had just driven them goodbye.


///


Eventually the two boys wandered on, walking down the main highway. They walked for about an hour and a half before a trucker stopped beside of them and said he would give them a lift to as far as he was going, which was Paris. John didn’t hate the idea. His feet were tired and he wanted a nice, hot shower. A meal, too. After discussing the matter over with Paul, he knew it wouldn’t be that bad of a holiday. It was far away from Liverpool and it was a place nobody would suspect. Perhaps maybe a bit romantically spontaneous for them, as well. They needed those types of surroundings.

“You don’t mind only getting to Paris? Thought you wanted Spain.” Paul asked when they turned around to talked it over for a moment.

“I think it’ll be quite fun, y’think? It’ll still be a getaway and we could still get stuff done. Nice lyrics and that.” John smirked and turned away. It was something that didn’t require eye contact. He hoped the message he wanted to convey to Paul got through to him with just the way he said it alone.

“If you say so. It’s up to you, you know, right? I’m down for whatever, like.” Said Paul, gesturing his hands throughout his words.

John just nodded and then, it was only there from here.

/

The bandmates finally arrived in Paris, France nearing on three o’clock in the morning. John was sleeping all hunched up in a single wide seat and here Paul was debating on whether or not to wake the sleeping man up as they arrived. Their new driver was stopping to let them go at the first motel he had been able to spot that was vacant.

Poking on John’s cheek—which was what Paul decided to go with—worked after a few unpromising tries. He sat up and straightened up his demeanor, physically and mentally waking himself up. He didn’t get much sleep due to the bumpy ride there in the back of everything. They were cramped and he had just realized his head was resting on Paul’s shoulder the whole time instead of the other way around.

“Sorry to uh—wake you… but I think we’re here.” Paul smiled. “He didn’t even ask me where we wanted off at. He just assumed this was where. Good thing though, I reckon.” Paul’s soothing voice being a wonderful delight to wake up to. Even if he was completely invested in his sleep time. He didn’t care at this point.

“I mean—it’s fine, I woke up as we got here. Thanks, uh, for the pillow.” John blushed awkwardly, looking into Paul’s green earnest eyes for only about two flat seconds.

“You’re welcome… I, uh, almost felt bad… You seemed so peaceful.”

The driver interrupted their moment. Of course he did. He came up and opened their door so they could get out. “I’m hopin’ you guys sought a place to bed in. This place is cheap ‘n it’s about the only one still accepting payment at such a late hour.” With that, he turned and went to go get his bags. It seemed like he would be renting his own room by how the luggage was stacked in the front seat.

“I guess he’s stayin’ too.” Paul pointed that out, knowing it would aggravate John by doing just as he does. It’s not the same when he does it, John thought.

“I suppose. And if he says they don’t charge much… that’s good. I don’t think it’s some high class suite but it should do.” John observed the building. It was slightly dark with little lighting but one poste vacant sign hung up on the wooden sign. However, it was decorated with a nice few gardens and it didn’t look a bit dirty or unkempt besides just looking a bit dark.