A month after John and Paul met, they decided to meet at the park a bit later than usual. They were going to meet up at eight, after the sun had gone down.

John sat on a park bench in the dark, lightly strumming his guitar. The park was deserted now that it was dark, but there was one figure approaching through the dim light of the street lamps and the crescent moon.

"Paul," John nodded to him as he sat down.

"Hey, John."

"Right, put the guitar down."

"Come again?"

"I said put the guitar down," John snatched the instrument away from his friend.

"JOHN!" Paul yelped. "Give it back, John!"

John leaned it up against the side bench and stood his own guitar beside Paul's. "After we do this,"

"What?" Paul sighed.

"I'm going to ask a question and we'll both answer it," John answered. "Then you'll ask a question and we'll both answer. Then the pattern just continues."

"Um, why?" Paul furrowed his brows.

"We should know each other a bit better if we're going to be mates, don't you think?"

The two has become closer than John had ever been with a person in their mere two weeks of really knowing each other.

"Fine,"

"Okay," John rubbed his hands together. "Full name?"

Paul sighed heavily. "James Paul McCartney,"

John gave him a quizzical look. "Your na- you - what?"

"Yes," Paul spat. "Don't run it in, okay?"

John shook his head. "It's just - just that you don't look like a James - "

"What about you?"

John chuckled. "John Winston Lennon."

"Winston?" Paul looked curious. "Like Winston Churchill?"

"The very same," John nodded.

"Okay, my turn." Paul said. "When's your birthday?"

"October ninth," John said.

"June eighteenth," said Paul.

"Okay," John thought for a few moments. "What's your mum like?"

Paul's face fell. "Well - well, sweet and kind and loving. So gentle, she would never hurt a fly. She used to sit in my room at night and song me to sleep when I was younger."

John frowned. "What's wrong, Paul?"

Paul shook his head.

"What is it?" John persisted. "Does she not like the rock 'n roll image?"

Paul shook his head again. "No, it's not that. She - she - "

John waited rather impatiently.

"She died last year," Paul blurted out.

John's eyes widened. "Wha- I - what?! A month since we met and this never came up?"

Paul sighed. "Well, what about you?"

"Well, I just really met her for the first time since I was five about three months ago." John said as casually as if he were commenting on the weather. "She left me, see, with my Aunt Mimi. I'm still trying to build an opinion on her."

Paul gave a subtle smirk. "A month since we met and you have failed to mention this until now?"

John rolled his eyes. "So there's your mum, your name is actually James, any other secrets I should know about?"

Paul shrugged. "I've got a brother,"

John nodded slowly. He had an idea to mess with Paul. "So, if your birthday was two months ago then that means I never got you a birthday gift."

Paul slumped back. "We didn't know each other,"

"So?"

Paul put his hands behind his head with another sigh. "You could give my guitar back to me,"

"I was thinking something more along the lines of this," John took a fistful of Paul's shirt and dragged him to his feet.

"Hey!" Paul yelped. "John! Oi! Stop it! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

John pushed Paul up against a tree that stood nearby and pinned his arms above his head.

"What are you doing?" Paul asked shakily.

John leaned in so that their noses were touching and chuckled inwardly. Paul was too gullible.

"John," Paul drew a shaky breath.

Paul's eyes were wide, John noticed, bugging out of his head. "I'm just me- " he was about to pull away, but John was suddenly interrupted by Paul's lips on his own. John quickly jumped back and stated at Paul in absolute and utter shock. "What the hell, McCartney?!"

"You're the one who pinned me to the tree!" Paul exclaimed.

"I was only messing with you!" John yelled, exasperated.

Realization flooded into Paul's doe eyes. "O-oh,"

"You - you - I can't believe you would - what the bloody fucking hell?!?"

"I - I just - John, I - " Paul stammered.

John considered what had just happened. It was illegal, of course. But there was something about it. Something that felt so...right.

Paul still stood against the tree, trembling slightly. John was going to hate him forever. Any friendship they could have had was over and there was no way John would let him into any band now.

John moved toward Paul and pinned him to the tree again.

"J-John?"

"Shut up," John kissed Paul roughly, and Paul willingly replied.

Their lips moved in sync, lips and teeth battling each other.

John pulled away from Paul but kept him trapped against the tree. "What have we done?"

Paul shook his head. "I don't know,"

"Mimi, I'm home!" John called into the house. "I've got a friend with me!"

John's aunt hurried into the room. "John Winston Lennon, it is nine o' clock."

"And my curfew is eleven," John pointed out.

"I didn't know where you were!" Mimi shouted. "I was out running the errands, I went to dinner with a friend, then I come home and it's seven thirty and I haven't a clue where you are!!"

John rolled his eyes. "This is Paul,"

Paul smiled and waved politely.

Mimi sighed heavily before smiling kindly at Paul. "Nice to meet you, dear. I've heard so much about you."

"Yeah, we're just going to go upstairs." John said.

"Are you spending the night, Paul?" Mimi asked.

Paul though for a moment. "If it's no trouble, I'd love to."

"Okay," Mimi nodded. "Just ring your parents to let them know. The phone's in the kitchen. I'm off to bed. Goodnight, boys."

"Goodnight, ma'am." Paul said before going into the kitchen and calling his father.

John waited on the stairs and when Paul returned the two of them walked up to John's room.

"Right," said John as he closed the door. "What the hell do we do now?"

Paul frowned. "I'm not even really sure what happened back at the park." He tentatively sat down on the edge of John's bed.

"It was illegal," said John. "I can tell you that much."

"It was good, though." Paul blurted out, then quickly looked up in realization of what he had just said.

But John nodded in agreement and bent over a bit to cup Paul's face and plant a kiss on his lips. "Different," John pecked the younger boy's lips again. "Very different," he was speaking against Paul's jaw, now. "But still - " he kiss Paul's jaw line. " - very good."

Paul relaxed, then tensed again, eyes wide. "But what do we do now?"

"I don't know," John sighed. "I mean I - I felt a spark." He looked worried at the fact that he has said that out loud and he poorly tried conceal the concern.

But Paul didn't even notice. "Yeah. Me, too."

"And you're sweet," John said.

"What?" Paul looked at him.

"You're sweet and kind and gentle," John sat down beside Paul and wrapped and arm around him. "Just lien your mum, I suppose. And you've got gorgeous eyes."

Paul chuckled. "You're not too bad yourself,"

"So," John sighed happily. "Are we dating?"

Paul nuzzled into John's neck. "I think so,"

"Thank goodness," John grinned