Paris '61 (McLennon smut)

eleven

a/n: i posted it yesterday not finished yet 😭 sorry for the constant updates on a story that is over 2 years old 😭 im just trying to make it better than what it was.

John made sure to get a room on a second floor. The catch was though, that the only available upstairs room had just one bed. Besides that, it came with a nice view over the wonderful city, the nightfall perfectly capturing the thousands of lights the buildings beneath them held. It wasn't much, but they were finally alone and free of any and all distractions.

Paul put the bag of John's clothes on top of their provided bedside table. His eyes were heavy and he felt sore. He was exhausted from all the walking. They both were.

"M'so tired, John..." Paul mumbled, letting his body flop down on the only mattress. “We can share this bed, okay? Nothing wrong with that."

John laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “It wouldn't be the first or last time." he smirked, taking off his jacket. “You just gonna lay there in yer trousers? Belt and all?"

“You aren't?" Paul sat up, watching John's every move curiously. To be honest, they've worn only those before, but now it seemed a bit different. Where he was feeling the same as John at the exact same time, it seemed like it wasn't allowed.

“No?" John pulled off his sweaty jeans, leaving himself in just a plain black t-shirt and plaid boxers. “That can't possibly bother you, Paulie."

“It doesn't. Why would that bother me?"

John sat down on the bed and scooted next to him a bit slowly. “I dunno. It's just I know you can't feel comfortable in all those layers."

Paul's heart raced in his chest, and he was almost sure he could hear it in his eardrums. “I-I kind of am not...that comfortable." he felt himself say, not moving at all when John sat on his knees beside him. Now that the two were almost face to face, Paul sat up a bit more so he was even closer. With only a few inches between them, John made a bold move to tuck away a few strands of hair behind his ear.

“You don't...Y’don’t need to be afraid, Macca, love. It's just me. We’re alone." John reassured his friend, resting the hand that moved his hair behind his ear on his smooth cheek. “Nobody but us is here. Nobody but me and you."

Paul swallowed hard and nodded as he removed his pants slowly. He wasn't sure on why he decided to do that above all things. Then he threw them down and blushed as he sat there in his white underwear and white t-shirt. The pair matched a little, obviously not on purpose. John found it amusing — the darker-minded lad wearing the black shirt and the almost innocent lad in all white. The man wearing red and black plaid boxers wanted to corrupt McCartney’s mind.

Paul couldn't help but feel so embarrassed and flushed over feeling this way. He hadn't ever been totally alone with John. Someone was always home, coming home soon, or something else had to have been there in the way.

So he decided to ask John why he felt so nervous around him, alone.

“Why do you make me so nervous, Johnny?" he asked innocently, really not sure what the answer would be.

“Why do I make you feel nervous?" John repeated, looking up in thought when a smile formed on his lips. “Because. I think you like me, and I think it's because you know I like you. Simple as that."

Paul looked away and felt for John's hands. When he found one, he placed his dainty hand on top of John's larger one. He couldn't bare to bring himself to look at him right now. It's just--holding his hand--it was just something that felt like it was always supposed to happen.

“Look at me," John whispered as if he could read his mind, taking off his glasses with the hand that used to be on Paul's cheek.

And even though the rounder faced boy didn't want to, Paul shifted his eyes to stare deeply into his friend's. He dared himself to say something, but knew it wasn't going to happen. He was too intertwined in his inner feelings of confusion and anticipation. John knew he finally had all of Paul's attention.

“I can't lie anymore. It's so hard to lie to ya. I can’t do it when all I want is now right in front of me. There’s somethin' I been wanting to tell ye for some time now." John started.

“What?" Paul barely got out. His grasp on John's hand only got tighter.

“I want you so much. I think about it all the time. Always in m'head thinkin' about just fuckin’ kissing you. All I wanted for me birthday was fer us t'be alone, y’know. And – y’know, that paper I was writin’ on in the truck — that was about how much I- how deep of shit I’m in over wanting you."

Paul gave that some thought, inching up closer to John's ear. After all the shit John talked, saying that he wasn’t into blokes. There the man was, finally admitting the feelings he never thought would leave John’s lips. McCartney knew it. He took a deep breath in before finding it in himself to speak.

“Kiss me, then."

And John did. He pressed his chapped lips onto Paul's plump, full ones. Although the friends thought exhaustion was about to overtake them before the kiss, this only kick started some energy. And yes, Paul hesitated to kiss back, but once he did, John took initiative to grab both cheeks of his friend. Deepening it. Fulfilling his wildest dreams.

Paul was the first to moan in John's mouth when the birthday boy's tongue pressed against his own. John pushed Paul down onto a pillow and held himself up by the palms of his hands. He broke the kiss to take a look into Paul's flushed face, and knew it was only downhill from there.

“I love you too," Paul admitted, hands pulling, tugging John's hair down into another kiss. He tricked him though, because once he did that, Paul took charge by changing positions. John was quickly pressed onto his back and Paul on top. He straddled John's waist and pursued the other's lips as if he owned him.

But all those wild thoughts McCartney just had of the man quickly faded. He forced himself to pull away quickly when John pinched his thighs. “What the fuck was that?" Paul sat up.

“Yer hard, Paul," John pointed out. “Can't you feel it? It's right against me stomach." John had the biggest smirk on his face and went to softly place a hand on Paul's middle.

Paul pulled away and backed down. He wasn't ready for that, blush only intensifying.

John was so caught up in lust that he didn't realize that Paul wasn't mentally prepared for that yet. It took him a moment to understand that Paul was feeling this for a man for the first time. John was too, but where be had been dreaming of it for so long, he felt like this has happened in his head too many times. It came like second nature.

"All right...M’sorry, love. Went too fast. I didn't mean to come at it like that. Let's go slower." John assured him, his hands softly caressing their way around Paul's waist.

Paul couldn't deny the fact he was hard, he couldn't deny that John's quick apology made him swoon over him even more, and he absolutely couldn't deny that when he looked up, he saw that John was sporting a hard on as well.

Don't get him wrong: he didn't want to ignore it, but knowing that this was illegal and frowned upon, he wasn't exactly sure how to approach it. He knew he was on the same page with John when it came to feelings, but expressing them outward was a whole new different field he wasn't aware of in any way. He never took time to even learn of the way two men interacted sexually since he knew he'd fancy it. He always wished it wasn't a crime because he knew he could find an interest in men. Paul always knew, but of course he also knew it wasn't normal so he ignored that side of things.

“You are too." Paul pointed out John's problem, breaking his view of John's bulge to look into his eyes.

“Happy you can see it." John sat up, giving Paul a mischievous stare. “We don't have to do anything about it, y'know. Let's just...kiss some more. I'll let you decide what we do." John knew exactly what Paul would end up doing. They've both been in a circle jerk together and they've both seen what each other looked like beneath their clothes. Of course it was little while since the last one took place, and there were always other friends involved. And that was even before they've developed feelings for each other so strong.

John would never forget something he heard with his own two ears that Paul had admitted. That he never had been good at ignoring his own erection. He said that no matter what, he would always end up finishing.

During one of those trying times the friends joined in together, it was found quite true. He almost felt dirty remembering how delightful Paul sounded just before his release. He remembered opening his eyes just a bit to catch the glimpse of Paul coming, something he found quite sinfully sweet. Hopefully Lennon would now get to make him finish, like he’d been dreaming about. Or at least be the one on Macca’s mind when he did manage to cum. He needed that, desperately.

“O-okay, Johnny. It's all right. I didn't mean it. You're right." Paul guided his friend back on the mattress. He planted a quick peck to John's lips at first before going for something more passionate.

“God, I...I’m sorry. I love you," John mumbled as they parted for a second, hungry for a real taste of the man he craved. It was even better than expected, “Don't ever stop kissing me."

“I’m not," Paul defended, lips in sync with John's afterwards. He knew they shouldn't go on with this, but it was so wanted and adored that he couldn't find it in him to stop anyways. “Why would I want to, Johnny boy?"

“I don't know, just... Please... Promise you won't quit." John pleaded, afraid that this was a dream he was sure to get out of soon.